


Just a Mouse Stuck in a Glue Trap

by Spicysauce



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angry Tony Stark, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flash Thompson Redemption, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapped Peter Parker, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Lacks Self-Preservation Instincts, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Swearing, They all need a hug, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Torture, Vomiting, Waterboarding, like lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28532517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spicysauce/pseuds/Spicysauce
Summary: Getting kidnapped was one thing. But getting kidnapped alongside Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, and Steve Rogers? That was a whole other shitfest entirely. Sure, part of Peter couldn't deny how freakin'coolit was that he was sitting alongside some of Earth's mightiest heroes, but the other, less optimistic part of Peter was starting to realise how he was in more trouble than he could possibly imagine.***A secret organisation wants information regarding E.D.I.T.H, Tony Stark's latest artificial intelligence. After kidnapping the people that are most likely to tell them what they want, they start to realise that Peter Parker isn't just your average intern, and he may be the key to breaking the heroes.***Updates every Sunday
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Comments: 291
Kudos: 940
Collections: A lire





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sup' my dudes!
> 
> I'm excited to start the new year off with a brand new fanfic!
> 
> A couple of things to note:  
> \- Infinity War and Endgame didn't happen. It may have happened over a year ago but I still haven't recovered.  
> \- Michelle and Peter didn't get together in far from home, but she does know that he is Spider-Man  
> \- Everyone has forgiven each other after the events of Civil War.  
> \- I don't have an editor so apologies for any spelling errors or grammatical mistakes. I'm also British and I've tried my best to only use American terms, but if I've messed up at all, please point them out to me in the comments! (same goes for any mistakes)
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters belong to the MCU
> 
> Warnings: This whole story is going to be pretty violent and graphic, so if that isn't your jam i don't reckon this is for you. If anything particularly bad happens, I'll put warnings in the end notes, but chances are every chapter will be pretty dark. Stay safe!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy the first chapter :)))

_“Peter!”_

A distant voice cut through the sea of darkness that was keeping him from awareness. Peter tried to sort through the jumbled mess of thoughts and sounds that wove in and out of each other like a needle and thread, but was struggling to string together a simple sentence.

Hesitantly blinking an eye open, shapes and colours morphed around him as he slowly became more aware, the fog clogging up his brain clearing slightly.

“Peter, Kid, please answer me.”

There was that familiar voice again – the only thing stopping him from collapsing back into the darkness that was still relentlessly nagging at him, making it difficult to open his eyes fully.

Eventually, he came to, his senses returning to a bearable level that allowed him to think clearly. His eyes snapped open, panic clawing at his stomach as he realised, he didn’t know where he was. The white walls and white floors he was met with was _definitely_ not his bedroom.

A painful thumping in his head had him reaching a hand up to touch the aching spot, only to panic further in finding he couldn’t move his hands at all. Glancing down franticly, he saw that there was a thick metal fastened around his wrists and his ankles, which were bolted to a chair that seemed to be made of the same hard material. 

Immediately, he thrashed and kicked despite the way the metal bit into his skin, hating the feeling of being so confined and helpless.

“Son, you’re okay. Look at me.”

Finally, Peter looked up at the voice he had involuntarily blocked out, in his panic not realising they had been trying to get his attention for a while.

Steve Rogers – Captain _freakin’_ America was staring back at him, slumping in relief when Peter looked at him. Peter noticed straight away that Steve was in a similar position to him, restrained to an identical metal chair just like his. But turning his head to face him meant he also had a clear view of the other occupants of the room.

On the other side of Steve sat Bucky, also known as the Winter Soldier, his eyes wide and alert as he looked around the room, searching for anything that could tell him where they were. And on the other side of Peter, to his left, was his mentor – Tony Stark.

Tony was slumped forward in his chair, his head bowed so Peter couldn’t see his face. He still seemed to be unconscious, which made Peter’s chest swell with concern. But still, he felt safer knowing the man was there.

“Holy cow…” Peter breathed, more to himself than anyone else as he realised the gravity of his situation. Images of hazy memories flashed behind his eyes: gas that made him drowsy, a metal fist colliding with the side of his head, his eyes slipping shut before his face had a nasty encounter with the ground.

Steve huffed a strained laugh. “You can say that again.”

“Where… who – why? – “

“I don’t know any more than you. I just woke up as well.” Steve tried pulling at his restraints again, but they didn’t budge. Must be vibrainium, he thought. “We’ll be out soon, don’t worry. Should be home before dinner.”

Peter had met Steve a few times. Once as Spider-Man, back at the airport – but that didn’t go too well since they were on different sides. And twice as Peter Parker, or Tony’s ‘intern’, as he had been introduced as. Similarly, he had only met Bucky a handful of times and even though he creeped the _crap_ out of him, Peter thought he was a pretty cool dude, and not just because of his totally awesome metal arm. Neither new his true identity and Peter didn’t plan on changing that. He could already imagine the lengthy lectures on how a child shouldn’t be mixed up in all this, even though Peter was sixteen, which is _basicly_ an adult.

“Uh, Mr Captain-America-Rogers, Sir, do know what’s wrong with Mr Stark?” Peter stumbled over his words, being in the presence of one of his biggest idols and simultaneously being kidnapped making him a little nervous.

Bucky snorted at how he addressed Steve but didn’t say anything.

“Steve’s fine, Son. And I assume that the drugs just still have him knocked out.” Steve’s brow creased in confusion. With his and Bucky’s enhanced metabolism and healing, it was unsurprising that they had already burned through the drugs in their system but that didn’t explain why Peter was so alert and awake. He ended up pinning it down to him being a growing teenager.

“Do you think it’s Hydra?” Bucky said suddenly, his voice low and quiet.

“Hope not.” Steve shrugged.

A quiet grown had the groups attention snapping to Tony, who had shifted in his chair. Slowly, he lifted his head, blinking lethargically like he had just woken up from one of his wild night outs.

“Mr Stark! Wake up!” Peter pleaded, his voice leaking with anxiety.

At the words Tony seemed to recognise they were in danger, as suddenly he gasped awake, his back straightening and his eyes wide. “What in the name of – “

“Mr Stark, we’ve been kidnapped!” Peter rushed, not so tactfully. 

“Stark, calm down.” Steve said as he saw Tony’s breath pick up. To say their friendship had been rocky was an understatement. Steve thought Tony was snarky and selfish, while Tony thought Steve was pretentious and irritating. But despite the whole shit-show of the accords, they had finally moved past it and were starting to get along.

“Kid, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Tony urged, leaning forward in his restraints so he could scan Peter up and down.

Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Mr Stark. I mean, I have been kidnapped which isn’t so awesome, but on the bright side, I’ve been kidnapped with three Avengers which is pretty cool – Ned’s gonna’ _freak!_ ”

“God, Kid, you need to sort out your priorities.” Tony mumbled, his anxiety slowly building. Under no circumstances, would he let anything happen to the Kid.

“Does anybody have any idea why we are here?” Steve said, straight to the point.

“Nope, nada. You got any bright ideas you would care to share with the group, Spangles?” Tony said sarcastically.

Steve gave him a bored expression, opening his mouth to say something when Peter beat him to it. “Someone’s coming.” He said, looking at the grey steel door to the side.

Bucky looked a him, confused. “How do you – “

His question abruptly cut off when the door burst open forcefully, a women casually strolling in.

If Peter were to take a guess, he would say she was mid-thirties, her tall, blood-red stilettos making a click-clack noise as she walked across the concrete floor. Her hair was silky and black, reaching down to her waist in long curls and falling against her black combat gear. It was like something what the Black Widow would wear, hugging her curves and holding a utility belt full of weapons.

“Who the hell are you, and where the fuck are we?” Tony demanded as soon as she was in the room.

Peter gulped as she eyed them each closely, a small mischievous smile tugging at her ruby lips. She studied Peter last, her gaze raking up and down his body in a way that made him feel bare.

“What do you want with us?” Steve said in an angry but controlled voice.

She continued to ignore their questions, instead standing silently and watching them in front of their row of chairs. If her aim was to unnerve them, it was working.

“You are probably wondering why you are all here.” She finally said, smugly, as she leant back against the wall.

“No shit!” Tony pulled at his restraints even though it was useless.

“Yeah, no offence, Lady, but I’ve got a Spanish quiz tomorrow and this is really eating up my study time.” Peter said, proud of how confident and casual his voice sounded.

Tony glared at him, his eyes ordering him to stay quiet and Peter already knew he was getting a lecture for opening his mouth when this was all over.

“I think your Spanish quiz can wait.” She said coolly. “You are all here for a reason.”

“Look, whatever it is I’m sure we can figure this out in a way that doesn’t involve us being restrained to a chair.” Steve reasoned.

She chuckled in response. “Somehow, I don’t think so.” She paused, once again studying them each individually.

“Can you cut that out?” Tony snapped when she continued to stare. “I know I’m devilishly handsome and all, but you’re gawking at me like I’m some circus animal.”

“If only you were a circus animal, Stark, maybe then you would do as you’re told.” She bit back, a hint of anger in her voice. 

Tony faked a laugh. “What would be the fun in that?”

She ignored his comment. “You are here because we have reason to believe you are in possession of, and know how to control, E.D.I.T.H.”

“ _Who,_ now?” Peter said, pretending to be clueless.

“Don’t play dumb.” She snapped. “You will each be questioned individually, and you won’t be let free till we know what we want.

“It’s gone – destroyed. And even if it wasn’t, which it is, why the hell would we tell you psychopaths?” Tony said.

She smiled sweetly, feigning innocence. “My men can be very persuasive.” 

Tony cursed under his breath. “At least let the kid go! He is just an intern, nothing more. He doesn’t know anything.” Tony hoped Peter knew that wasn’t true. 

“We all know that’s not true. I don’t know why you have such a strange relationship, my guess is you are some kind of sugar daddy to him, but who am I to judge?” She chuckled.

Tony felt sick at her implications, scrunching up his nose in disgust.

“Uh, for the record, that’s gross, and it isn’t anything like that.” Peter defended. “I’m just an intern. I get coffee, sort through paper-work, do… intern-y… stuff.”

Steve winced at his obvious lie. Sure, Peter was Tony’s intern, but it was obvious they were a lot closer than that. He saw him around the tower and in the labs a lot, always hanging out with Tony who obviously cared for him more than he let on.

The lady hummed and started to walk around behind their chairs, tracing her fingers across their shoulders. “So, who is up first? I’ll let you discuss it.” She walked back to the metal door, letting it clang behind her.

“I’ll go.” Steve said with no hesitation. “See what we are dealing with here.”

Tony straightened in his chair. “Nice try, Capsicle, but as you aren’t so great at the whole ‘talking’ thing, I’ll go first.”

“I can withstand torture; I might as well be the first one. Give you guys a heads up.” Bucky cut in.

Peter stayed silent, looking between the men as they bickered back and forth. “Guys – “

“Not now, Kid, the adults are talking.” Tony said, leaving no room for argument.

“But – “

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” Tony turned his attention back to Steve and Bucky. “ _I’m_ going.”

They continued to argue for a few minutes till they finally made the decision that Steve would go first, since he had the most training in this area, much to Tony’s dismay.

The door swung open again and the same women walked in, two muscular men waiting at the entrance. She casually strolled behind the chairs, keeping them feeling uneasy, before settling behind Peter. 

“You’re my favourite, you know.” She purred into his ear, her hand sliding beneath his shirt to run down his chest.

Peter tried to squirm away from the unwanted touch but could barely move and inch due to the restraints. “Uhh…”

“Hey! Get your hands of him!” Tony yelled from his seat.

She carried on, paying no attention to Tony’s threats as she pulled her hand out from his shirt. “Which is why I have decided to let you choose who goes first.”

“Just say what we decided, Son. It’s okay.” Steve said gently from his seat, not wanting him to feel any guilt for choosing him.

Peter weighed his options. He had the advantage of them not knowing he was enhanced – maybe there was a way he could fight his way out and rescue the others? He couldn’t just sit here and do nothing while Steve could be getting tortured, not when we could do something about it.

“I’ll go first. Take me.” Peter swallowed down the fear crawling up his throat, putting on his best brave face.

“What? No – don’t!” Tony shouted, thrashing against the metal cuffs.

The lady smiled wider, her white teeth becoming visibly as she motioned for the large men to take him way.

“He’s just a kid!” Bucky yelled in protest. Sure, he didn’t now Peter very well, but he seemed like a good kid.

“Take me instead!” Steve pleaded as the men started to undue his metal restraints roughly, hauling him up between them so he was sandwiched in the middle, each tightly holding an arm behind his back.

Tony continued to curse as he was shoved out the room. “You sick bastards! I’ll kill you, I’ll – “

Peter threw one last glance in Tony’s direction, hoping he could see the apology in his eyes, before the man on his left pushed him forwards so he stumbled, and the large metal door shut behind them.

Peter only caught a glimpse of outside their cell, catching images of white walls and long halls before a black sack was aggressively pulled over his head. He tried not to trip up over his own feet as they pushed him along because that would be _way_ too embarrassing.

It was impossible to tell which way to go and Peter had no idea how many guards were around, so he knew he couldn’t attempt to escape yet. He had to wait for the right moment. After a few more twists and turns, Peter heard the sound of a key card being swiped and an electronic beep, followed by the scraping of a door against the floor.

Being in darkness was disorientating, the shuffling of feet and muffled voices his only input. “As lovely as this sack is, could someone take it off. It’s itching my nose.” Peter said, politely.

The rough hand on his shoulder squeezed painfully, the grubby nails digging into his skin as a silent warning. Peter kept his mouth shut, pressed into a thin line to stop the snarky comments that threatened to escape.

He was manhandled onto a cold table, the feeling of restraints fastening around each of his limbs making him shiver. He pulled at the restraints weekly, his heart leaping into his throat when he realised they were made out of the same unbreakable metal.

Without warning, the sack was ripped from his head, a bright light making him wince. He surveyed his surrounding quickly, seeing he was strapped to a metal table in the middle of a blindingly white room, a table stacked with tools and weapons to his left that made Peter feel sick. Next to the table, sat an older man on a tall stool, positioned so he was towering over Peter. His hair was slicked back with too much gel, and Peter could see a tacky looking maroon suit peeking out beneath a white lab coat.

Peter hadn’t even realised he had been half-heartedly pulling at his cuffs till the man spoke up, chuckling. “Don’t bother. These nifty little things here are made of Vibranium.” His fingers traced the edge of the metal around Peters wrist. “Not even Mr Rogers can break out of these, and by the looks of you…” 

Peter scoffed but ignored the jab. “So, you are creepy _and_ a douchebag.”

The man clenched his fists at his side, making Peter grin as he realised how easy it was going to be to wind this man up. “You can call me Dr Adams.”

“Not going to lie, I think douchebag suits you better – it has a better ring to it.” Peter smirked.

Suddenly the man’s hand shot out and pinned Peter’s hair to the table, making the metal clang and his head throb. “Alright, you little shit, here is how things are going to work. You are gonna’ keep that smart mouth of yours shut, while I ask you some questions.”

“How am I supposed to answer your questions if I have to keep my mouth shut?” Peter questioned, looking puzzled. “You need to make up your mind, this is very confusing. Is this your first-time interrogating someone? It seems like it. You aren’t very good – “

Adams tugged his head up by his hair, slamming it down on the metal again, shutting him up. “For a sixteen-year-old boy who apparently has an internship with Tony Stark, you are pretty fucking stupid.”

“Hey! For your information, I’m a part of my school’s decathlon team, and we have won, like, three competitions.” Peter defended. “How many competitions have you won, _Adams_?”

“Shut it.” The man said through gritted teeth. “What do you know about E.D.I.T.H?”

Peter stayed silent, his eyes flicking around the room as if he hadn’t heard him. A tingle at the base of his neck warned him of the incoming punch, but with no room to dodge, his head forcefully snapped to the side as a fist slammed against his jaw. 

“Answer me.” Adam’s voice was low and quiet, his fist raised, ready to strike.

“You literally just told me to ‘shut it’. Stop giving me mixed signals!” Peter squeaked. He was not going to let his sassy, uncaring façade be dropped – frustrating the doctor was just too entertaining. Besides, Peter could handle a punch or two.

That was obviously the wrong thing to say, as his fist flew towards his face again, hitting him around the cheek even stronger than before, Peter spitting out the blood that had collected in his mouth. 

“So, you _do_ want me to talk?”

His closed fist came down on the metal table with a thud. “Yes goddammit! What do you know about E.D.I.T.H?”

“E.D.I.T.H? I don’t even know who that is, man. I’m just an intern!” Peter said, exasperated. 

“You’re lying.” Adam’s stated, reaching to the table stacked with tools. 

He was right – Peter was lying. He knew that it was an artificial intelligence system that Tony had recently created and was able to hack into virtually anything. He knew it had access to the entire Stark Satellite Network, as well as hundreds of drones and nuclear missiles. But he also knew it was incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands. But Adam’s didn’t need to know any of that. 

Though Peter knew quite a bit about E.D.I.T.H through Tony, he didn’t know how to change its coding or pass it on to someone else, which is what he assumed the people wanted to find out – he was pretty sure only Tony could do that. Having said that, he was able to hack both Karen and Friday, so he could probably figure it out. 

Adams turned back to face him, holding up a sharp pair of scissors in his left hand. Peter couldn’t stop his body from shifting away as the blades neared him, closing his eyes as he prepared himself for the pain. The sound of fabric cutting had him slowly looking down at himself to see Adams was just removing his T-shirt, ripping it out from under him. His relief was short lived, however, as his hand now held a surgical scalpel, the scissors looking blunt in comparison

“Hey! That’s, like, my favourite science T-shirt!” Peter stared, broken hearted, looking at the torn remains of his shirt that read _’I lost an electron’_ , with another atom replying with _’Are you positive?’_

Adams looked back at him in disgust. “I’m going to give you one last chance, boy. What do you know about E.D.I.T.H.?” He growled, spitting each word. 

“I told you, I don’t know anything.” Peter gulped, wincing as the blade pushed against the skin on his arm.

It sunk lower, painfully slowly, Peter gritting his teeth as Adams dragged it from the top of his arm to his elbow. He refused to let out a sound, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He let out a breath as the scalpel was retracted, leaving Peter to feel the trickle of warm liquid drip off his arm.

“Care to change your answer? Adams placed the blade over his collarbone, marking the place he was going to cut next.

Peter gripped the restraints harder, his knuckle turning white. “Nope.” He answered, popping the ‘p’. 

“Very well.” He smoothly dragged the blade from his collarbone down to the bottom of his ribs, Peter harshly pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, so he didn’t grunt.

This routine went back and forth, Adam’s asking him a question and Peter refusing to change his answer, so his torso and arms were now littered with long incisions. But Peter was hanging in there; he could deal with superficial cuts like these, and he could feel his skin already starting to knit itself together.

That thought worried Peter though, what if he healed too quickly and they became suspicious of him? Being Spider-Man was the only advantage they had currently, and with the sheer amount of guards and constant use of Vibranium, even that wasn’t seeming to be a big help right now.

“How did that feel?” Adams asked, smugly.

“Very relaxing, actually. Who would go for a spa day when you can get a treatment like that for free?” Peter retorted, trying to sound upbeat despite the way his cuts were stinging.

Adams smile dropped instantly, as he motioned for the guards who were waiting outside. They entered in a formally manner, unlocking his restraints and roughly hauling him off the table, making him bite down on a yelp as it pulled at his injuries. He considered fighting back then, but he noticed the guns attached to the guard’s waistbands and realised he would have no chance. 

The same grim sack from earlier was tugged over his head, the materials scratchy against his bruised face.

“I’ll be seeing you again, Parker.” Adams said from somewhere off to his right.

Peter moved his head to the direction of the voice. “Lovely chat, Adams, can’t wait!” He said, overly joyful. “Yeah, no. Douchebag _definetly_ suites you better!”

Peter’s Spidey-sense buzzed but he still wasn’t prepared for the powerful knee that drove into his stomach, crashing against his ribs and knocking the wind out of him. He gasped as he bent over as far as the guards holding him would allow, unable to answer as he was shoved forward and out the door.

His backchat was worth it though, as when he was being lead back through the halls, his enhanced hearing picked up Adams muttering, “ _God_ , I hate that kid.”

Stumbling back towards his cell, Peter’s smirk faded as he realised how much Tony was going to freak out.

*** 

“The boy’s hiding something, Lilian.”

Lilian tucked a strand of her long black hair behind her ear, as she looked away from the camera footage. “You’re sure?”

Adams took a step towards her. “Yes – but I don’t think he knows anything about E.D.I.T.H.”

“Maybe not.” She said, her voice clipped.

“I don’t understand why we need him if he isn’t going to tell us anything. Why not just kill the little brat now?” Adams clenched his fists, remembering how much the kid infuriated him. When Lilian didn’t respond he spoke again. “Surely, Stark is the only one we need? I can’t see Barnes and Rogers knowing anything he doesn’t.”

Lilian blew out a long breath. “I’d agree with you. But Stark is stubborn, and he won’t give up the technology just like that. He needs an… incentive. I wasn’t sure till today but it's clear that he is close with the boy, closer than he lets on to the public.”

“You think the boy’s his son?” Adams suggested.

“Possibly – but I don’t think it matters. Either way, we can use him to get what we want.”

Adam’s smile grew. “What about Barnes and Rogers?”

“We can’t be certain they don’t know anything. And if they don’t, I know a few organisations that would pay a pretty penny to have two super soldiers on their hands.” Lilian smirked back.

Adam chuckled, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders.

“Let the show begin.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup dudes!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter! :))
> 
> \--also, I've decided I'm going to try and update every Sunday, if not more frequently.

**The previous day:**

“Three… Two… One…”

Peter and Ned placed the final piece of plastic onto their masterpiece, both holding the brick with one hand and pushing it till it clicked into place. They cheered and high-fived, admiring their hard work and dedication. Finally, the Legos death Star had been completed and they treated their creation like it was their very own child.

“I’m kind of sad it’s finished.” Ned said as he popped a salted chip into his mouth, still staring at the completed set.

Peter nodded glumly. “I mean, if we both save up for a couple of months, we can probably get an even bigger set. It’s something to look forward to at least.”

“Even bigger that the _Lego Death Star_? Dude, you are crazy.”

Peter shrugged and laughed, reaching for his notebook on the side and flipped it open to the page he wanted.

“Okay, run me through the list again.” Ned shifted closer to Peter, so they were both sat crossed legged on Peter’s bedroom floor.

“Make my webs stronger. Check. Complete the Lego death Star. Check!” Peter drew a large tick next to the line in green pen, smiling at himself. Peter continued to read off the list he had made. “Ace my finals – should be a piece of cake. Get a job, save up, and buy May a car.” 

He knew it was ambitious to achieve in one year, but May had done so much for him and he wanted to do something for her more than anything. “Become an Avenger.” Again, a little ambitious with how Tony still thought of him as a child, but it was worth a shot. “Tell MJ how I feel.”

“I think you should ask her out.” Ned commented.

“What?” Peter spluttered. “You know I’m not good with girls, Ned, she would never say yes and then I would never be able to see her again and I think I’d literally _die_ from embarrassment. No, no, I can’t – “

“Dude, it’s on your list you have to. Besides, I think she likes you to.” Ned shrugged.

“Really? Why? Did she say something to you?”

“Well, no, not in those words _exactly_ but – the point is, I think you have a shot.”

Peter thought for a moment, looking down at his list. He and Ned each made one at the beginning of January, writing down everything they wanted to achieve by the end of the year. His last couple of years hadn’t gone so smoothly; first with Ben dying, then the whole fiasco of Homecoming, and then topping it off with his trip to Europe that had been a complete disaster.

At that, Peter looked down at the last line. “Make this year better than the last.” And he was determined to make that happen.

***

**Present day:**

Tony was angry.

Scratch that – he was downright _enraged_. He had to focus on the fury he felt for their captors, because if he didn’t, the image of Peter being roughly shoved out of the room, out of reach, where those bastards could do whatever they wanted to him, sent him into a spinning spiral that made him nauseous with worry. 

“He is going to be okay. Peter is a tough kid – he’ll be completely fine.” Steve had been rambling nonstop since they took him, trying to reassure himself and the others that the boy would come back unharmed. He didn’t know how to deal with the guilt at the knowledge that it was supposed to be _him_ , certainly not Peter. He was the one that was supposed to asses the severity of their situation, protect the group and prepare the others.

Bucky hadn’t said much, focusing all of his attention noting down any details about the place they were in or the guards that would pass by. He was used to Steve remaining annoyingly positive in situations like these, and he had learned a long time how to block it out.

Tony, however, had not learnt this skill, and was losing patience fast.

“I swear to god, Rogers, if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to rip of your balls and shove them down your throat..” Tony suddenly snapped.

Steve blew out a long breath and bit his tongue. He understood why Tony was irritable and knew this was not the time to argue with him. “Were you telling the truth?” Steve said instead.

“About what?” Tony looked at him, frustrated.

Steve lowered his voice, bowing his head slightly. “About E.D.I.T.H. Did you destroy it?”

Tony was about to answer when Bucky cut him off, clearing his throat and gesturing to the wall in front of them. “That wall is made of glass. There are probably people behind it – watching us.” He whispered, barely audible.

Tony looked closely ahead of them, seeing he was right. He hadn’t noticed at first, but the wall was made of a white glass, so clean that he could see his reflection in it. Bucky had been in situations like this and probably knew more Tony, so he decided to listen to him, for once. Bucky and Tony were not close, for obvious reasons. After the whole ‘you killed my parents’ fiasco, things were tense between the two. They didn’t outwardly dislike each other or held any grudges, but neither made the effort to close the gap and become friends. 

An electronic beep sounded before the metal door opened, two men stepping in with a body crammed between them.

Tony couldn’t help but gasp as he immediately noticed the long, deep incisions that marked the entire kid’s torso and arms, blood still flowing down his pale skin.

“Shit, Peter.” Tony cursed as Peter was thrust down into his bolted chair, the restraints tightening around his limbs in seconds. The black sack covering his face was yanked upwards, giving everyone a clear view of the nasty bruises that had already formed over one of his eyes and his jaw, the greens and blues looking like a child’s painting across his face.

“You’re going to regret that.” Tony seethed as the guards walked out, not looking back.

Steve sucked in a breath as he scanned Peters body up and down, who was now missing a shirt and looking completely miserable. _At least he’s conscious_ , the optimistic part of his brain told him.

“Sup, guys.” Peter croaked, avoiding eye contact with the six eyes that were staring intensely at him. He knew it looked bad, worse than it was, really. Peter knew the cuts would heal over within a few hours, not leaving a single scar behind, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t streaked with blood from nasty-looking gashes.

“Are you okay?” Steve said, his voice quiet because he already knew the answer.

Tony bristled. “Of course, he isn’t okay, Steve!”

“I’m fine, Mr Stark. Really, I am.” Peter gave him a small smile, trying to make it seem genuine. He could feel exhaustion seeping into his bones already now that his adrenaline had faded out.

“Kid, it looks like Toddlers were handed kitchen knives and told to ‘go to town’ on your body!”

“It doesn’t look like that.” Peter defended, weakly.

Tony scoffed, harsh and loud. “It does from where I’m sitting!”

“Stark, lay off him.” Bucky interjected before Tony could yell at the kid more, who had shrunk into his seat and gone quiet.

Tony’s next jab died in his throat, cursing at himself for being so angry when Peter was clearly in pain. “What happened, Kid?” His voice was gentle and warm, something he reserved for Peter, and Peter only.

“They, uh, just asked me a load of questions about E.D.I.T.H, and when I didn’t answer any of them they, uh…” Peter gestured to his body, which was explanation enough. 

“Why did you do that?” Steve suddenly said, his fists clenched on the armrests. “Why did – why did you tell them to take you first? We agreed it would be me. It was supposed to be me.”

Peter thought for a moment, looking down at his worn jeans which were spotted with red stains. “I didn’t want to see any of you get hurt.” Peter replied, truthfully.

“Don’t you _dare_ do that again, Kid.” Tony said, his tone firm but soft. “Or… or I’ll ground you for two months!”

Peter laughed, forgetting about the pain momentarily. “Mr Stark, you can’t do that! Only May can - _shit_! Aunt May! She must be so worried!”

“Aunt Hottie will be fine.” Tony reasoned, thought to be honest he was a little scared of how badly she was going to kill him when they were back home.

“You don’t understand! I can’t do this to her, not after…” Peter gulped, pausing to collect himself, “not after Ben.”

Steve felt like he was intruding on a private moment. He didn’t know who Ben was, but he was obviously important to Peter.

Tony understood immediately, hating that he couldn’t reach out a hand to comfort him, even if it was just a quick ruffle of his hair. “You don’t need to worry about that. You know why? Because we are getting out of here – the Avengers will have noticed we are missing by now, and you know them, they will be over here in no time.”

“Yeah, they will, I don’t doubt them for a second.” Steve agreed.

Peter wasn’t so sure. Not because he didn’t have faith in the team, he did, he just couldn’t see them being able to find their location so quickly as it seemed like these people new what they were doing.

“Can we all agree that I’m going next?” Steve said.

“Fine.” Peter relented. “But if you get the same dude I got – Adams - _please_ call him a douchebag. It might earn you a punch in the face, but it is totally worth it to see how annoyed he gets.”

“Count on you to mouth off to your captors!” Tony said, shaking his head.

Bucky leaned forward. “Y’know, for an intern, you’re a pretty tough kid.”

Peter grinned at that, taking it as a compliment.

“Tony, his cuts are going to get infected, we need to get out of here soon.” Steve eyed the blood running down his pale skin.

“I’ll be fine.” Peter insisted. He knew they wouldn’t get infected because they would heal long before that became in an issue, but he couldn’t explain that to Steve. Suddenly, he felt his eyes become droopy and would have rubbed his eyes if he could, instead straightening his back to try shake his sudden exhaustion.

Tony noticed. “Go to sleep, Kid.”

“But –“

“Got to sleep.” Tony repeated a little more forcefully, leaving no room for argument.

Finally, Peter gave in, letting his eye lids fall shut and feeling the pain wash away as he fell asleep. 

Steve listened carefully to his breathing, waiting till it had evened out to speak. “This is bad.” He whispered.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Tony snapped. He blew out a breath, the anger making his body tense leaving with it. “I’m scared for him. He’s just a kid.”

“He is going to be completely fine.” Steve lied, because he knew it wasn’t true. Even if they did make it out now, there was no way a sixteen-year-old boy would leave unaffected by this.

Bucky looked up. “He has us.” He said quietly.

A thick silence filled the room. An hour passed. Maybe two. It was impossible to tell. None of them spoke, or slept, or did much of anything as the time passed. Even Steve’s unwavering positivity had ceased, and now that it was gone Tony longed for it because if the Captain was losing hope, they were in deep shit.

A creak and a loud slam had Peter jerking out of his fitful sleep, his head shooting up as the door opened and the same dark-haired women from before came walking in. This time he took notice of a small badge clipped to her jacket, reading ‘Lilian’.

“I’m going next.” Steve urged before anyone could say anything to avoid a repeat of last time.

She giggled in response, giving his hair a ruffle like you would a dog. “Not so fast, Captain.” She walked towards Peter who involuntarily flinched at her closeness. “How’s are little Petey doing?”

“Just peachy – though room service here could be better. No one has even asked me how I like my eggs yet!” Peter quipped.

“Stay away from him.” Tony growled before she could respond.

Lilian didn’t acknowledge him. “How awful of us. How do you like your eggs, Peter? Scrambled?” She spat the word, taking a step closer. “Fried?” Her fingers trailed the bare skin on his arm. “ _Beaten?_ ”

Somehow Peter didn’t think she was talking about eggs anymore. “Well, come to think of it, I don’t really eat eggs - more of a cereal person.” He stammered.

Lilian hummed and returned to her position in front of the white glass wall, Peter releasing a breath when she was out of his reach.

“What’s your game plan, huh?” Tony questioned her. “Why do you want E.D.I.T.H so badly?”

She gave him a studying look, as if she was thinking carefully about her next words. “The world needs fixing, Stark.”

“What do you mean?” Steve said.

“When building an invention, you often don’t get the best product straight away. And what do you do when it fails? You take out the faulty pieces and you replace them, retesting it till it runs smoothly, perfectly. Sometimes, you even have to break a few things along the way.”

Tony rolled his eyes at the cliché villain monologue. “In case you hadn’t noticed, this planet isn’t one of your little ‘inventions’. It will always be imperfect and messy – “

“But it doesn’t have to be, don't you see? E.D.I.T.H can help us achieve that.”

Lilian’s prying eyes roamed around the room again, when her gaze fell on Peter. Her cold expression faltered as she looked at him closely, quickly walking towards him and taking hold of him arm.

Peter tried to pull away. “Hey! What are you – “

“How?” She ordered, and Peter’s heart dropped in his chest as he looked down at where she was staring, to see she had wiped away the dried blood from his arm, revealing smooth skin were an incision should have been.

Peter said nothing, gulping as an excuse dies in his throat. He looked to Tony, searching for what to do but was met with his mentors panicked eyes as he also realised what was going on. Lilian scrubbed at his chest, almost frantically, smearing the blood in different directions so she could see more of his miraculously healed skin. 

“Who are you? _What_ are you?” She demanded.

When Peter didn’t answer, didn’t know how to, she marched towards Steve who was staring at Peter’s chest, confused and concerned. In the blink of an eye, Lilian had pulled out a metal rod from her pocket and was pushing it against Steve’s exposed neck.

The super soldier gasped in pain, his back arching and his body going rigid as he was electrocuted. He couldn’t stop the yell that pushed past his lips as the fire continued to engulf him, getting more intense and more unbearable. 

“Stop that!” Bucky roared, fighting against the Vibranium that kept him trapped.

Lilian pulled it away from his chest momentarily, Steve panting. She fixed Peter with a dangerous glare. “What are you?” She screamed, holding the rod an inch away from Steve's neck as a warning.

Peter panicked; he couldn’t let Steve go through that again, not because of him. Distantly, he thought he heard Tony whispering _”Kid, Don’t.”_ but it was drowned out by the thudding of his own heart beat.

When Peter still remained quiet, Lilian turned again to electrocute Steve and it was then that the life seemed to snap back to Peter, lunching forward in his chair and he yelled, “Spider-Man!”

She paused, pulling the weapon away from Steve's heaving chest and slowly turning to Peter.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Peter repeated, feeling the fight leave him and dread set heavy into his veins. Steve and Bucky had gone stiff at his reveal, processing the words they wished weren’t true, while Tony had frozen like a deer in headlights. Things just got much, _much_ worse.

Surprising everyone, Lilian burst into a fit of laughter. She bent over to slap her leg as she continued to wheeze, unsettling Peter.

“It all makes sense now!” She threw her hands up in the air, smiling wildly. “I couldn’t understand why a billionaire superhero, like Tony Stark, would hang out with an insignificant teenager, like Peter Parker! But now it has all clicked in to place – you’re his very own science experiment!”

Peter ducked his head because even though he knew it wasn’t true, a small voice in the back of his head couldn’t help but whisper, _but what if it is?_

“Either way, as interesting as this new development is,” she carried on, “this won’t change our plans.”

Steve hadn’t said anything, still trying to get his head around the fact he had never noticed before, never questioned all the signs, never bothered to ask. 

“Come on in, boys.” She sang sweetly, watching as the guards marched in once again.

But then they walked past Steve and started unfastening Peters restraints instead of his, making the boy whip his head back and forth in both confusion and terror.

“What the hell? You said we were going to take turns!” Steve yelled, his anger simmering over.

Lilian looked at her red-painted nails, unbothered. “I changed my mind.”

“You can’t do this! I’m going to kill you!” Tony shrieked over Steve, feeling the blood run down his wrists from where the metal had cut into them.

Bucky’s face contorted into a rage not many had seen before. “You bastards! Don’t you dare!”

Peter was hyperventilating now as he was manhandled between them, the possibility of fighting back not even registering in his mind as a new, suffocating terror kept him in place.

The others continued to scream, thrash and curse, not stopping when Peter was out the door and they probably couldn’t hear them. Lilian had remained rooted to her spot in front of them, watching the scene play out with a small smirk.

Eventually, their struggles died down, the three breathing heavily, each movement laced with fury.

“What are you going to do to him?” Bucky seethed, speaking dangerously quiet. 

Instead of replying, Lilian flipped open a black box attached to the wall and flipped one of the switches inside it.

Their reflection on the white wall in front of them suddenly disappeared, the wall now looking like ordinary glass. On the other side was a space similar to theirs with the same white walls and white floor, only instead of four chairs placed in a row, there was just once facing them. 

A sickening feeling started to bubble in Tony’s chest. Surely, they wouldn’t…

In the cell opposite them they watched in horror as the door was thrown open and the guards pushed Peter in, still blinded by the sack, into the room.

“Peter! Kid, you’re okay – I’m here.” Tony yelled out to him, hoping to provide some comfort by showing him he wasn’t alone. 

But Peter didn’t react, didn’t even turn his head to acknowledge him.

“He can’t hear you.” Lilian supplied, knocking against the glass. “Can’t see you either. To him he is trapped in a room just like this one, completely alone, staring at his own reflection in the white glass.”

“Why do this?” Steve spat, not able to tear his eyes away from Peter as they pushed him down, his limbs struggling slightly against their hold.

“Like I said before, we will do whatever it takes to get information on E.D.I.T.H. We didn’t want to hurt the boy more than necessary, but it seems like he is the key to breaking you.”

“What? So, you are going to torture a child and make us watch?” Bucky shouted, incredulous.

Lilian smiled, all lips and no teeth. “Bingo.”

A strained yell had Tony’s attention snapping back to Peter, to see that he had elbowed one of the guards restraining him in the face, and proceeded to flip the other over his back, leaving them sprawled on the floor. While they were both stunned, he ripped the sack of his head, searching frantically for anything that could help him escape.

But the guards were regaining their footing, now even more pissed off. Lilian startled at his sudden outburst, reaching for her radio and calling for assistance.

“Come on, Kid.” Tony whispered, proud of him for fighting back, but also terrified of him being over-powered by the guards he was sure were on their way.

_You can do this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated :))


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup dudes!
> 
> The next few chapters will be the most graphic and angsty, so please check the tags for any warnings. Things are going to get worse before they get better!

Honestly? Peter was tired of the sack.

The scratchy material was rubbing against his sore face, irritating a particularly nasty gash on his cheek. Plus, he couldn’t see anything ahead of him, making it impossible for him to take note of any possible exits. He assumed that was the point though.

The hands that held his wrists behind his back were rough and tight, no doubt leaving finger shaped bruises on his arms. As he was forced into another room of some sort, Peter started to struggle a little, feeling them pushing him down onto another chair.

Enough was enough.

Peter pulled his hands apart quickly, finally using his super strength so the guards had no chance of holding him down. He used the swing of his arms to ram his elbow into a guards face, hearing the crunch of his nose and his body hitting the floor moments earlier. His Spidey-Sense buzzed and before he knew it his movements were acting on pure instinct and muscle memory, flipping the danger over his body with a loud thud.

He wasted no time in ripping the sack from his head, already prepared for the white light that assaulted is eyes. He scanned the room quickly, noticing two things instantly. One, the cell he was in looked almost identical to the one he had been in before, completed with the white glass wall opposite him, only this one only had one metal chair bolted to the floor in the centre. And two, the guards were regaining their balance and started to advance towards him, accompanied by two more that rushed through the door, armed and ready to fight.

“Hello, Boys.” Peter said with a small wave.

Peter was holding his ground as he moved around them in a dance of kicks, punches and dodges. He prided himself on being quick and agile, so his hand to hand combat was decent. Having said that, things started to get more complicated when the guards were pulling metal rods out of their pockets, the same ones they had used on Steve earlier.

They had the power to electrocute someone as strong and as big as Steve, so Peter did _not_ want to get caught by one of those bad boys. 

A man to his right lunged towards him, metal rod first but at the last moment Peter grabbed the man’s wrist and drove the shocking devices past him and into the ribs of the man to his eft, knocking him out quickly. A sharp tingle down his side had him rolling across the floor, barely missing another rod that crashed into the floor where he had been. 

Peter performed one of his favourite moves, which Ned had dubbed as the ‘Astro Strike’ for some reason, where he flipped sideways in the air, driving his foot into his opponent with an insane amount of force. It did the trick and the man was thrown back against the wall, falling unconscious.

He stepped backwards out of reach of another shocking devise, but this led him falling straight into another one, his back touching the weapon.

The pain was immediate, stealing his breath away and his legs giving out. He opened his mouth in a silent scream as his knees crashed to the floor, panting in relief when the electricity finally ceased. That was all it too to take him down, as he was suddenly being lifted into the chair behind him.

“That… wasn’t… very nice.” Peter breathed

At the last second, peter realised they were trying to strap him down and began to thrash in their grip, his fist managing to collide with someone chin, but then the same fire was back, racing through his veins like hot molten. He yelped as his whole body convulsed like a seizure. When the pain stopped, he barely noticed he had been restrained to the Vibranium chair, too busy trying to get his breath back.

But then as he became more aware, the cold realisation settled over him that he just ruined his chance to escape and get his teammates out of here. All because he couldn’t handle a little bit of electricity. He bowed his head in shame, the silence of his cell almost suffocating him.

***

The three Avengers watched the fight play out, unable to do anything but stare. They cheered when he downed two guards, using their one weapons against them.

But even though he had the upper hand, suddenly Peter was gasping, writhing on the ground as the metal rod was pushed into his back. They saw him give one last attempt to break free but he was too week, earning another electric shock.

“Let him go!” Tony yelled to Lilian, who had remained indifferent.

“We will, if you tell us everything you know about E.D.I.T.H.” She replied.

Tony clenched his teeth.

“Just remember, Stark, whatever happens to him, it’s on you.” At that she left the room, swaying her hips with pride.

Tony didn’t like to look at Peter like this, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away. The boy thought he was alone, and it was only now that Tony saw his wall being dropped, his shoulders sagging and eyes glistening with unshed tears. He had never seen him so vulnerable.

Steve didn’t know what to think. “Tony…”

“Save it, Rogers.” Tony spat, his voice cracking.

“We fought him at the airport and I never knew. Jesus, he’s sixteen.” Steve carried on anyway, muttering to himself. But then he caught a glimpse of Tony’s distress, and his eyes softened. “This isn’t your fault.”

“How can you say that?” Tony was wallowing in his own self guilt. “I bought him into this mess. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten this close to him because people I’m close to get hurt!”

“I hate to admit it Stark, but Steve is right - this isn’t your fault.” Bucky added. “Besides, he kicked my ass back at the airport. He’s going to be fine.”

Tony grunted in response, his gaze returning to his kid in front of him. A little while passed and Peter didn’t do or say anything, his eyes glued to the floor in front of him. All his injuries had either healed or faded to barely noticeable marks, but Tony was more worried over the fact he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything.

He could tell Steve and Bucky were starving as well but neither said anything.

Tony straightened when he saw Peter’s head snap up suddenly, staring intently off to the side. Only moment later, the door clanged open.

“How does he always know when they’re coming?” Bucky asked, a little baffled.

“He has a sixth sense kind of thing.” Tony replied. “We call it his ‘Peter-Tingle’ to wind him up.”

A man in a horrendous maroon suite strolled in, pushing a kart of ominous instruments along with him. When Peter saw him, he plastered on a wide green.

“Douchebag! – sorry, _Adams_ , I mean.” Peter cheered over-enthusiastically. “I would shake your hand but I’m a little tied up right now… literally.” He laughed at his own joke, making Tony smirk despite the situation.

This Adams guy obviously didn’t like Peter all that much as he immediately scowled at the comment. “Parker.”

“So, what brings you here on this fine evening? Going to ask me some more stupid questions? Or do you just enjoy my company?”

Adams hummed as he placed his fingers in Peter’s hair, a comforting gesture that it made him want to be sick when he knew whose hands they belonged to. “What do you know about Tony Stark?”

Peter rolled his eyes, dramatically, while shifting his head away from the fingers still grazing him. “How many times do I have to say it? We aren’t close! I’ve only spoken to the guy, like, twice for Spider-Man stuff. He doesn’t care about me.”

Tony’s heart clenched at the words. Logically, he knew Peter was just saying it for show, but a part of him was still scared he thought there was truth behind it.

“You’re probably right. _But_ , whether he cares about you or not is irrelevant. Because _you_ care about _him_.” Adam’s breathed into his ear.

“I don’t.” Peter replied quickly – too quickly.

Adams chuckled in a way that said he didn’t believe him. “I’m sure you know about how Stark became Iron-Man, no?”

Peter nodded slowly, unsure of where this was going.

“He was kidnapped in Afghanistan, forced to build a weapon. But how did they force him? Simple. They waterboarded him.”

The words were like a slap in the face and Tony failed to supress a flinch at the images flashing behind his eyes. He could feel Steve and Bucky looking at him with concern – unwanted concern, because he didn’t want their pity.

“What has this got to do with E.D.I.T.H?” Peter changed the subject, hating imagining his mentor in that situation.

“Everything, my dear boy.” Adams grinned. “I’m going to give you a choice. Either, you tell me what you know about E.D.I.T.H –“

Peter cut in. “I told you I don’t –“

“ _Or_ , you choose who gets waterboarded. Your dear old Mentor, who’s still traumatised from the last time he was forced into a bucket of water, or you.”

Peter’s jaw noticeably clenched, not even having to think about his choice.

Tony chocked on his breath, begging for Peter to choose him. He could take it; he could take anything for the Kid. “No, no, no.” He muttered under his breathe.

“Me. I’ll do it.” Peter said, his confidence being betrayed by the fear in his eyes.

Adams clasped his hands together, his smile all teeth and no lip. “Brilliant.”

Tony hadn’t even noticed that Lilian was back, sat in the darkest corner of the room, watching them, until she spoke. “This doesn’t have to happen. Give us information on E.D.I.T.H and we will let him go.”

It was so tempting but Tony knew he couldn’t. One piece of information could give them the ability to kill thousands. 

Steve was more furious than he had ever seen him, the veins in his neck bulging. “Stop this! He is a kid!”

“E.D.I.T.H is destroyed! It doesn’t exist! Please, I’m telling the truth.” Tony lied through his teeth, his voice on the edge of pleading.

Lilian blew out a breath through her nose, looking back to the glass wall. “Let’s watch the show then, shall we.”

Adams had a large silver bucket, rust decorating the rim with specks of blood doting the sides. It was full to the brim of water and ice that slightly splashed over the sides as it was placed on the ground with a thump. Peter’s eyes widened when he saw it, his body already shivering and itching to run.

When his cuffs were unfastened, he didn’t put up a struggle as he couldn’t risk them turning to Tony instead, letting himself be dragged to the floor in front of the bucket on his knees. Two more men in black combat gear walked in, presumably to help hold him down, and it was then that the sickening realisation that this was happening washed over him.

Each guard took post on either side of him, placing their hands on his shoulders, while Adams took hold of his head, tugging his hair painfully. Peter couldn’t help but stare into the icy water.

Tony’s heart was beating so fast he was surprised it hadn’t broken through his ribs. He was cursing at Lilian, at Adams, at any bastard that had helped get them into this mess. He could see Peter staring at the filled bucket clearly, hating how he was positioned in such a way so he was directly facing them. “Wait, please, don’t – “ 

Tony was begging now, there was no denying it. But they were running out of time.

Adam bent down so he lips were hovering over Peter’s left ear as he whispered, “Last chance, Pretty Boy.”

Peter’s face hardened as his muscles tensed. “ _Fuck. You._ ”

The hands pushed down on him forcefully, his head plunging into the water so fast his head hit the bottom with a burst of pain. It was so cold he wanted to gasp and cough at the same time, but his instincts kicked in and no breathe escaped. 

But then he was thrashing involuntarily, the burn in his chest increasing as they didn’t let up. The cold was paralysing, making his movements slow and uncoordinated but still full of enhanced power. 

The pressure was too much, all-consuming and completely unbearable. He wanted to scream, cry, beg but he couldn’t even do that. _They are going to kill me. Oh god, I’m going to die, I’m going to –_

His body was thrust up suddenly, the air hitting his face as he gasped and chocked. The hands around him still held tight in a bruising grip.

Peter barely had time to regain his breathe when he was being shoved into the water again, this time the panic immediate. His Spidey-Sense was aching so badly it made him dizzy – or maybe that was the lack of oxygen. 

After that Peter’s thoughts became muddled. He would thrash and kick and shout as he was held under, only to be brought back up at the last minute. It reminded him of the time he was dropped in the lake, tangled in the parachute as he drowned. But this time was so much worse because it was never-ending, and this time Tony wasn't coming to save him.

He was pretty sure it was on the third time that he threw up, gagging uncontrollably as the water he had swallowed came rushing up and out.

“Stop. Please.” He chocked out; the words barely coherent over his hacking and gurgling. Adams laughed into his ear as he was plunged back in, a sob escaping him before his face crashed into the water.

Tony was screaming at them, telling them to stop but they didn’t even bat an eye. He already knew that the image of Peter begging to be released would be ingrained into his mind forever, a constant reminder that the people he loves get hurt. And sure, Tony had never admitted, even to himself, that he loved Peter, but there was no question about because he did. He loved Peter Benjamin Parker so em>damn much.

Steve was putting all of his focus into snapping the restraints though he knew it was impossible. He couldn’t bare to watch. Even though Peter couldn’t see or hear them, every time his head was yanked back up, it felt like his eyes were boring into his soul.

Bucky was staring at the scene unfold before him. His chest rose and fell quickly, the only sign that he was distressed. He couldn’t explain it but he felt a strong need to protect Peter, like what he suspected brotherly instincts felt like. It was then that the soldier wished he had taken the time to get to know Peter better and he made a promise that when they got out of here, because they would, he would spend more time with him.

Finally, his head was yanked out by his hair, Peter spluttering and gasping, and it wasn’t forced back in. The men shoved him to the side, kicking the bucket over with a loud clang, sending the rest of the water spilling across the concrete floor. Peter barely caught his fall as he gagged again, struggling to gain his breath back. He lay on the ground, his elbows shaking as they held him up.

“How ya’ feeling, Pretty Boy?” Adams stuffed his hand into the pockets of his suite, grinning sadistically. Peter really didn’t like the nickname ‘pretty boy’ that the man had taken a liking to.

He lifted his head in his direction which seemed to take all of his effort. “Refreshed.” Peter croaked, wincing at how haggard his voice sounded. “Thanks for the shower, Douchebag.”

The smug smile on Adams face vanished in an instant, his eyes becoming dark and full of rage. His patience was running out as the boy refused to break like all of his other subjects would have by now. He stormed towards where Peter was struggling to push himself up and sent a sharp kick into his side, putting all his frustration into it. Peter sprawled across the floor, clutching his side as he gasped.

Tony yelped in his chair at the assault. He thought it was over, he thought they were done!

Adams growled at him, swinging his leg back for another hit. “When will you learn to keep your mouth shut?” He shouted, emphasising each word with another kick to his ribs, feeling them crack beneath his boot.

Peter grunted at the pain rained down on him, his mouth opening in a silent scream. 

Hands were under his arms, lifting his limb body off the floor and mercilessly dumping him into the metal chair. Peter groaned at the movement but slumped into the chair, relived that they had finally left. He stared at his lap, ignoring the blood coating his bare abdomen.

The cell was silent, an eerie contrast to the screaming and shouting that had filled it moments before. For a few minutes he did nothing, the throbbing pain and scary thoughts of _”What the hell do I do now?”_ fighting for his attention.

But it was becoming too much and now that he was alone, he couldn’t keep it from spilling over, his bravado cracking and crumbling. A sob broke through the silence, ad he was so tired he barely realised it came from him.

Once he started, he couldn’t stop, his shoulders shaking violently as he cried. The jostling made pain blossom everywhere, which only made his whimpers grow and morph into painful choking.

Tony’s head snapped up at the sound of Peters cries, his heart breaking more than he thought possible. Eventually, his broken whimpers died down and Tony realised he had fallen asleep, drifting off into a painless darkness.

“I can’t keep this up, Cap.” Tony whispered, defeated.

Steve lifted his head slightly. “Neither can I.”

Lilian must have left at some point because now she was back, giving them a calculated glare. Tony didn’t have it in him to throw any more insults or threats, too exhausted to even look at her.

He only lifted his head when he heard the heavy footsteps of guards advancing towards them, maybe three or four. To his surprise, they started unlocking their handcuffs.

“Step out of line once, and the kid pays for it.” One guard warned.

They all gulped, clenching their fists to fight the urge to lunge forward and beat them to a pummel.

“Where are we going?” Bucky asked as they started to guide the three out the room.

“Toilet break.” Lilian said. “Unless you would rather go in your pants?”

Now come to think of it Tony did need to relive himself. The torture of seeing Peter waterboarded had him barely noticing the sharp thrumming in his full bladder. Black sacks were pulled over their heads before they could even take a glance outside their cell and they were lead out. 

It was only a short walk before they were the sacks were ripped from their faces and they were face to face with a row of dingy cubicles. 

“Nothing like taking a piss in a dirt hole.” Tony muttered.

The three did their business in silence, discreetly glancing around to search for anything that could help them escape. After a few moments they were on their way back to their cell.

Steve strained his ears, enhanced hearing picking up the quiet talking of the guards. 

“Take Barnes to the interrogation room.” Lilian ordered, the guards nodding in response and Bucky was steered in a different direction.

“Hey! Where are you taking him!” Steve yelled, overpowering the guards restraining him to look in the rough direction they were taking Bucky. He still had the sack on but he could hear their footsteps, and the need to protect his best friend came over him.

Tony, unaware of what Lilian said, turned around, shocked.

“Fight back and the boy gets it!” Lilian shouted over Steve’s panic. He shut his mouth immediately, going still but not compliant.

“Steve it’s fine.” Bucky insisted, letting himself be walked away. “Don’t do anything stupid!

Steve’s body went tight as he clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to tackle the man against him. Reluctantly, he continued to move down the hallway along Tony.

He had to keep reminding himself because if he didn’t, he was sure the urge to tackle the guards to the ground and find Bucky would win, putting them in an even deeper mess.

_Don’t do anything stupid._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will have a bit of fluff as well as a crap-tonne of angst!
> 
> Thanks for reading :))


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey dudes! Thanks for all the lovely comments people have been leaving - they makes me so unbelievably happy. Hope you all enjoy todays chapter!

The only reason Steve hadn’t done anything stupid was because he couldn’t do anything stupid. The Vibrainium cuffs made it impossible for him to move more than an inch and they hadn’t become any closer in planning a daring escape.

Tony had been quiet, watching his sleeping Kid through the glass. But Steve didn’t mind, he didn’t think he could take any mindless chatter when they were doing god knows was to Bucky.

When Bucky was finally bought back to their cell, looking a little worse for wear, he seemed to be more angry that he did scared. His injuries were similar to Peter’s when he had been interrogated, maybe a little worse with the cuts running deeper and the bruises on his skin more prominent, but overall he would be fine.

“You okay?” Steve said anyway. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared about Bucky's mental state. Being locked up like this was bound to summon an army of memories from his time with Hydra.

“Fine.” He grumbled back, looking out to Peter who was still asleep.

Steve knew that wasn’t completely true but decided not to push. They could go through the whole ‘talking’ and ‘therapy’ thing when they were out of this hell hole.

Tony didn’t say anything to Bucky’s return, but he did seem relieved he was back.

“Well, actually, there was one thing.” Bucky said.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows, suddenly very worried.

“They injected me with something.”

“What was it?” Tony asked, also confused.

“I don’t know – they didn’t exactly let me read the label.” Bucky replied, sarcastically. “I didn’t feel anything, though.”

“Tracking device, maybe?”

Bucky shrugged in response, not in the mood to entertain the idea any longer. Secretly, he was terrified they would hand him over to Hydra, make him back into one of those soldiers that he had been trying so hard to leave in his past.

And he had been getting better too. With the help of Steve and the rest of the team, he felt like he finally had a family again. A messy, dysfunctional one at best - but still a family.

It wasn’t long after that Steve was taken next, given a similar beating that Bucky was given, and then injected with the same mysterious substance. Bucky had been furious of course, anxiously waiting for his friends return but knowing that he was probably going through what he went through, stopped his thoughts from spiralling too much.

Steve had finally returned, bloody and bruised, but okay. 

***

Peter didn’t wake up gradually.

As soon as his mind was half awake his eyes had snapped open, the dread of realising he was still in this terrifying place keeping him coherent.

Though most of his injuries had healed, other than a cracked rib or two, he felt positively awful. Hunger was tearing at his stomach like the sharp nails of a lion, and he was so dehydrated that the walls of his throat felt more like sandpaper. Not to mention the fact that he really, _really_ needed to pee.

Overall, Peter felt like shit. 

And now he was sure there were cameras in here, watching his every move, because he had been awake for roughly two minutes, and the door of his cell was already swinging open with a bang that made him flinch.

“Douchebag.” Peter greeted without looking up because he knew it would be him. 

“Parker.” Adams replied with a smirk. “You seem a lot less cheerful.”

Peter looked up to give him an unimpressed expression. “Well, _duh._ I’ve got to listen to you blabber on about what not for the next hour.”

“How you feelin’?” Adam’s ignored him. “Hungry? Thirsty? Need the toilet?” It was like the man had read his mind, taunting him with everything he was itching to beg for.

“No.” Peter lied, though it didn’t sound convincing.

“Oh, well, in that case, I guess we can skip all that and get straight onto the main event.”

Peter clenched his jaw, biting back a retort as he watched Adam draw something out of his blazer, revealing a long, black whip.

“Awh man, can’t you save your kinks for the bedroom?” Peter grimaced.

Adam’s ran his hand along it’s smooth edge in fascination. “I’m going to unlock your restraints and you are going to stand with your hands on the glass wall.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because outside this cell are ten-armed guards, ready to hold you down at the click of a button. Oh – and one of my men are currently holding a pistol to your dear old Mentors head.”

Peter gulped. Logically, he knew they must be bluffing – Mr Stark was the only one who could recreate E.D.I.T.H – they wouldn’t kill him… right? But Peter also knew he tried once before to overpower the guards, and that hadn’t gone well, so reluctantly he stood up, rubbing his raw wrists.

He stepped towards the glass wall, looking at his reflection as he placed both hands on it. He was sure someone must be watching from the other side – Lilian probably, if he had to guess.

“And remember, none of this has to happen – “

“– if I tell you about E.D.I.T.H. God, I get it!” Peter huffed. “Well, as I don’t know anything, I can’t tell you anything! Just get on with it.”

Even though Peter saw it coming in the reflection in the wall, and felt the familiar tingle at the base of his neck, nothing could have prepared him for the burn that came with it. The whip cracked down on his back once, twice, three times. Each one more agonising than the last.

Peter could barely breath as he was given no break between each assault, his whole back being consumed by a fire that had tears leaking out of his eyes. On the ninth lash he screamed, raw and loud and guttural because he couldn’t hold it back any longer. And the longer it went on the more he screamed.

Peter didn’t even realise that his feet had given way, his body crumpling to the floor with nothing to hold him up. He was gasping, heaving, gagging on the spot.

“Get up.” Adams snarled in a low voice, holding the whip ready to strike again.

Peter’s voice was wrecked as he whispered, “I can’t.” And he was telling the truth, even imagining trying to stand sent fresh waves of agony across his back.

Adams clicked on a small device that was attached to his blazer and held it up to speak. “Lilian be a doll and put a bullet in Tony Stark’s leg. The kid is playing up.”

“No! Wait!” Peter lurched, still heaving. “I’ll get up. Please, don’t hurt him.”

“Never mind, hold off on the bullet.”

With shaky arms, Peter pushed himself up off the floor, using the wall to support his body as he grinded his teeth together, determined not to let out another scream.

Adams leaned back and struck him twice more in quick succession, making Peter scream in pain but somehow stay upright. 

Suddenly, Adams stopped and barked out a loud laugh, clapping his hands together. It was then that, through the haze of pain, Peter realised he had urinated accidentally, his left thigh becoming damp. The humiliation made him want to cry on the spot, but he didn’t let a sob escape him, pushing his hands up against the wall instead.

Taking a hold of Peter’s upper arm, Adam’s roughly shoved him back and manhandled him into the chair as he muttered, “Disgusting,” under his breath.

Peter didn’t have it him to reply back, bowing his head in a mixture of shame and agony.

Blood was collecting onto the chair beneath him and running down his legs, dripping into the floor and part of Peter was glad he couldn’t see the mangled state of his back. The burn across his back wasn’t dissipating like he hoped it would, the pain making him wide awake and jittery. He wanted to fall asleep, why couldn’t he just fall asleep? 

The Avengers would be here soon. Yep, real soon. 

_Right?_

It wasn’t like he didn’t have faith in them, he trusted his life with them, but they had been captured for probably twenty-four hours now, and Peter just assumed they would have been rescued by now. But what if the Avengers tried and gave up? What if they thought they were dead? 

At the thought of having to stay here for more than another day, Peter felt his breath start to quicken. A million thoughts raced around his head and before he knew it he was suffocating.

It felt like thick, sticky tar was clogging up his throat, making it impossible to gasp in one breath. _Panic attack_ , his brain supplied amidst his panic.

“Happy thoughts, Peter. Happy thoughts.” He mumbled to himself, desperate to calm down.

_Come on, Spider-Man. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts._

***

Peter hung upside-down from the ceiling, cross legged as he dragged the paint roller across the wall in a satisfying white strip.

“Why are we doing this again, Mr Stark?” Peter asked from his position on the ceiling.

Tony looked up at him, paint brush in hand. “ _Because_ , Pepper told me this room needed to be painted by Tuesday, and all our decorators can’t get here till the weekend.”

Peter rolled his eyes but laughed anyway. “It sounds to me like you forgot to call them and now they're too busy to come last minute.”

“ _No_ ,” Tony responded, his mouth opening when he couldn’t think of an excuse. “Okay, _yes_ , but you can’t tell Pepper because she reminded me about five times last month.”

Peter hummed as he shifted across the ceiling to reach an unpainted spot. “Your secret is safe with me, on one condition.”

“Are you blackmailing me, Peter Benjamin Parker?” Tony crossed his arms, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Think of it more as a deal between friends.”

“Fine. What is your ‘one condition’?”

Peter gracefully dropped off the ceiling, landing opposite Tony. “You wear you’re Spider-Man pyjamas in front of the Avengers!”

Tony barked a laugh. “Kid, you have control over Iron-Man, over a billionaire, and that’s what you choose? Seriously?”

“Yep!” Peter grinned, “Do we have a deal?”

Tony smirked and held out his hand that was wet with light blue paint. Peter smiled even wider, slapping his hand against Tony’s and shaking it tightly, the white and blue on each of their hands mixing together.

As they shook hands, Tony reached his other hand out and smeared a mess of blue paint into Peter’s hair and down the left side of his face, giggling when Peter’s mouth hung open from shock.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry. Did I get you?” Tony said between laughs, faking guilt.

Peter’s expression shifted from surprise to mischief as he looked down at the wet paint brush in his left hand, and then to Tony, whose eyes immediately widened.

“As an adult and your mentor, I demand you put the brush down.” Tony instructed, trying to conceal his grin. “I’ll ground you! These clothes are more expensive than – “

Tony was cut off as a splash of paint splattered across the graphic tee he was wearing, decorating it with drops of white.

For a moment he was silent, and Peter was worried he had gone too far, overstepped his boundaries. 

But then Tony broke into a wide green, dunking his brush into the pot of paint as he muttered, “That’s it, you are going to pay for that!”

Peter dodged a spray of paint, only a few drops hitting his shoulder as he lunged out of the way. He scaled the wall, dropping down behind Tony and swiping his brush across his Mentors face, laughing as Tony tried to spit out the paint that had gotten into his mouth.

From then it was all out war, each of them dodging and throwing new paint attacks. Judging by the state of their clothes, Peter was definitely winning the battle, thanks to his enhanced senses and super speed, which Tony ad claimed was _’so unfair!_

Peter froze when his enhanced hearing picked up footsteps from down the hall, the click clack of heals sounding against the marble hall. “Hey, I think – “

Tony hadn’t realised Peter was saying something, instead taking the opportunity while Peter was distracted to finish him off. He poured the entire contents of his bucket over Peter’s head, the paint running a river down his neck and the back of his shirt, which was so wet it stuck to his skin.

Peter gasped as the cold liquid ran down his face, turning to Tony who was bent over and clutching his stomach, laughing hysterically. 

“As I was going to say,” Peter said as he wiped some of the paint away from his eyes, “Miss Potts is coming.”

Tony’s smile dropped immediately, his whole body standing up straight in panic. “ _Shit!_ Pepper’s coming? Crap, crap, crap.” He muttered as he took in the state of the room in a panic.

But he was too late, as the door opened and Tony’s head spun towards it in a frenzy, standing next to Peter.

Pepper’s froze in the doorway, her mouth dropping open as she took in the sight of the two boys.

The room was a mess of blues and white, the walls decorated with messy streaks of colour and handprints across the ceiling and floor, surrounded by mini pools of colour. Peter was drenched in blue paint, the liquid clumping up his hair and running down his face as he looked at Pepper, slightly alarmed.

Tony was stood next him with his hands behind his back guiltily, his clothes in a similar state of colourful chaos. His mouth was open, but he said nothing, fully aware they had been caught red handed (or should he say _blue_ handed) and there was no way he was squirming out of this one.

“Tony?” Pepper squeaked, not sure whether she should laugh or shout.

That seemed to snap Tony out of his shock as he took a step forward. “Pep, baby, honey, the love of my life, sweetheart… I can explain.”

Pepper nodded for him to continue, finding this far too amusing.

“He started it.” Tony held up an arm and pointed at Peter.

Peter gaped, incredulously. “What? That is _so_ not true!”

“What do you mean it’s not – “

“Boys.” Pepper said, causing both of them to shut their mouth and to snap their gaze back to her. “Go take a shower, I’ll order a few pizzas and we can talk about this over dinner.”

“Yeah, kid, go take a shower.” Tony agreed.

“ _Both_ of you.” Pepper smirked.

Peter laughed and followed Tony out the room as he mumbled a quiet, “Fine”.

Pepper shook her head, trying to contain her laugh as she watched the two trudge down the hall, leaving blue and white footprints as they went.

Peter looked up at Tony. “Remember our deal. We shook on it so you have to.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Tony waved a hand. “Honestly I’m relieved. I was sure you were going to black mail me into making you an Avenger, or something crazy.”

Peter slapped a hand over his head, realising how stupid he was to throw away his opportunity. “Aw man, that would have been so much better! Wait, I take back – “

“Nope, no backsies aloud. We shook on it, after all.” Tony smirked, using his own words against him.

He cut off Peter’s noises of protest by slinging an arm over the boy’s shoulder, playfully pulling him in tight as they walked towards the bathrooms. 

Peter couldn’t help but smile as he was held in the half-hug, a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest making him the happiest he had been in a while.

***

A relived sigh fell from Peter, happy that he was able to distract himself from the pain and the distress for just a little while. The burn across his back was still present, making him groan involuntarily every now and then, but he was grateful it had settled down to something manageable.

Really, he just wished they would put him back in the cell with Tony, Steve and Bucky. Being alone was starting to get to him, especially when pain made time hazy, making him unsure whether a day had passed or just a few hours. But he also knew that was selfish; if there was a way to avoid Tony seeing him like this, then he should be happy about that. The man didn’t need any further stressing out just because of him.

The hunger pains in his stomach were so angry they were rivalling the bloody lashes on his back. Peter tried not to think about how long someone with an enhanced metabolism like his would last. It was also very apparent that his lack of nutrients was stunting his healing, as usually by now he could see his injuries trying to knit themselves together and, if anything, they just felt like they were getting worse.

Peter lethargically turned his head as the door opened.

“Douchebag!” Peter cheered unenthusiastically, only to grow confused as Lilian walked in. “Oh, you aren’t Douchebag – well, you are a douchebag you just aren’t _the_ douchebag.” Peter was fully aware he was rambling, exhaustion and pain stripping away his filter, not that he had a very good one to begin with.

“I see you still don’t know how to control that mouth of yours.” She commented. “I’ll make this quick, I’d rather not be here longer than necessary.” She pulled out a large syringe from her jacket, the contents a bright blue.

“What the hell is that?” Peter said, trying to lean away as she forced his chin upwards, exposing his neck.

When she didn’t answer, Peter grew desperate and did something he knew was a bad idea. He threw his head forwards, it colliding with her nose with a sickening crunch.

Stars burst across his vision, but it was worth it as she stumbled back, dropping the syringe as she yelped and held her nose that was already flowing with blood. The anger in her eyes made him shrink back, and even though he expected the slap that had his cheek stinging and his face jutting to the side, it didn’t stop the gasp that escaped him.

Lilian glared at him, silently. He would prefer it if she screamed and kicked him; his inability to read her made her that much more frightening.

“Do you know how one catches mice, Mr Parker?” She said suddenly, the calmness of her voice making him uneasy.

Peter tilted his head. Where was she going with this?

“Glue traps.” Lilian supplied as she wiped away some of the red that was starting to dribble down her chin.

Peter huffed a frustrated breath. “What are you on about?”

Lilian ignored him as she circled back to stand behind his chair, lacing a delicate hand through his hair. “The mouse stupidly, blindly wonders into the trap, only to get stuck as the glue sets in place. And do you know how mice get out of glue traps?”

Peter said nothing, focusing on not throwing up at her touch.

“Simple. They don’t. They fight, and they struggle, and they cry until, _finally_ – they starve to death. Well, most of them anyway. Some become so terrified, so _desperate_ , that they chew their own leg off to escape, only to bleed to death moments later. Either way, they die in agony.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Peter was tired of her speaking in riddles.

Her grip on his hair tightened. “I’m telling you this because you’re too blind to see that you, Mr Parker, are already in the trap, and the glue is setting in place. There is no way out for you - maybe you will starve, naively fighting till your heart gives out, or maybe you will realise that you can never escape, and – “

“Too bad I’m not a _fucking_ mouse.” Peter cut her off, not willing to play any of her little mind games. He knew she was trying to get inside his head, but he wouldn’t fall for it.

“Oh, Mr Parker, how naïve you are.” 

Peter hadn’t even noticed that she was still holding the syringe, hadn't even seen her pick it back up off the floor, until it was plunged into his neck and he could feel it spreading down his veins. He braced himself for the pain that he was sure was about to come, only to slowly peel his eyes open when nothing happened. In his panic he hadn’t even realised Lilian had left, his cell back to the same eerie quiet it had been before.

But now she was gone he was once again alone left with his thoughts, which could be much more dangerous.

Was Lilian right? Was he being naïve, thinking he could still get out of here?

Peter shook his head knowing he couldn’t think like that, that’s what they wanted – to break him down till he was nothing, leave him a mess of shattered parts.

With a renewed vigour, Peter straightened his back. If they wanted to break him, they were going to have to do a lot better than that.

***

“I still don’t understand, Lilian.” Adams paced the security room, his eyes flicking between the ground and the live feed of the cells. “Why are we starting project ZHVIKOV now? All the previous subjects died, and we haven’t even got any results on the new sample back from the labs. It’s too soon, isn’t it?”

Lilian breathed out a sigh. “It’s not too soon. We have three enhanced mutants on our hands, why not kill two birds with one stone?”

“But it isn’t working. Stark hasn’t told us anything – and why haven’t we interrogated him? Surely, he is the most important – “

“Stark may be an asshole, but he would die before giving information about E.D.I.T.H. That kid is the answer.” Lilian was getting tired of Adams constant nagging.

Adams stopped in his tracks to face her. “We have already tortured him and have gotten nowhere. If the Avengers find us, we’re done.” 

“They won’t find us.” Lilian snapped. “If project ZHVIKOV is successful, we won’t need E.D.I.T.H anyway. We’ll kill Stark and move the others to a facility in Europe.”

“How long before we’ll know?” Adam’s asked anxiously.

“Know what?”

“If the project is successful?”

“Hopefully no longer than a week. We can begin trials tomorrow and turn to last resorts to get information from Stark at the same time. This is going to work, trust me.”

Adams eyed her wearily. “And if it doesn’t?”

Lilian looked back to the screen, watching the footage from the two cells. “It will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the glue trap idea from the Haunting of Bly Manor (a great show I definitely recommend) and thought it would be fitting in a creepy villain monologue.
> 
> Comments and kudos much appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy!
> 
> This is probably the most explosive chapter (a lot happens) and I'm excited to share it with you. However, it is probably also the most graphic, so if there is any chance you could be triggered by something, look in the end notes for warnings. (But otherwise don't, as they are pretty spolier-ish)

Tony’s throat was sore from screaming and his wrists were raw from tugging and his cheeks were wet from crying. The great Iron-Man looked a complete mess, and he couldn’t find it in him to care one bit. Not when his Kid was suffering.

Fifteen lashes. _Fifteen_.

He had to watch as the whip came down on Peter’s back, fifteen horrific times. Each strike was worse than the last, more brutal, more unforgiving, more gut-wrenching. When Peter finally let out the screams he had been holding back, no one could blame him.

Steve had turned his head away, selfishly wishing he could cover his ears, so he didn’t have to hear the whip connecting with his skin and the agonised yell that came with it. He may not have known the kid too well, but that didn’t stop him from growing slightly attached, and he knew that Natasha practically adored him, so he must be something special if he was able to worm his way into her shielded heart.

And then Lilian had come in, Tony feeling like not all hope was lost when Peter headbutted her, breaking her nose. They had cheered for him even though he couldn’t hear it. 

She was waffling on about glue traps and mice and Tony couldn’t help but hold his breath when she plunged the long needle into his neck.

“Nothing will happen. It’s the same stuff they injected me with.” Bucky had tried to reassure them, though it did nothing to stop them from scanning Peter up and down, looking for any strange symptoms.

“You don’t know that.” Tony had replied.

The three were growing restless, they were sure they had been trapped in this place for maybe two days now, and they desperately needed the Avengers to come and bust them out. 

After a particularly heated argument between Tony and Steve, one purely powered by exhaustion, hunger and distress, Lilian had waltzed into their room, ignoring the yelling and threats that greeted her. She pushed a needle into Steve’s neck, emptying the blue contents into his system. He was powerless to prevent it but that didn’t stop him from demanding she tell him what it was to which, _surprise, surprise_ , she ignored.

Tony hadn’t been injected so they assumed whatever their game plan was, was due to them all being enhanced. That also meant that it probably wasn’t a tracking device like they had originally thought. Not knowing what was coursing through their bodies was leaving them all on edge.

And then Peter was having a panic attack. And they could do nothing but watch. Tony had enough experience with those to recognise one but not being able to comfort him was killing him and judging by the looks on Steve and Bucky’s faces, it was tearing them apart too.

Tony couldn’t be prouder when he found that Peter had managed to calm himself down, relaxing at the sound of his even breathing. And it started to dawn on him that before this, he had never seen Peter cry, never seen him anything other than excitable and energetic, other than the whole ferry incident that he would rather forget.

To everyone's surprise, a few guards came in to their cell, unlocking their arm restraints but leaving on the leg cuffs, and deposited a small plate of food and bottle of water. It wasn’t much, just a few pieces of bread, an apple and a cereal bar, but it was still food, and _god_ , were they hungry. 

Tony was about to refuse the food out of defiance, but then to his relief he saw a guard walk into Peter’s cell, giving him a similar plate and unlocking his restraints. His brows furrowed when he saw Peter’s leg cuffs were unfastened too, allowing him to get out of the chair and walk around, but the growl of his stomach had him not thinking about it for long. They all tucked in, trying to pace themselves as to not throw up. For the super soldiers it was nowhere near enough, but did help ease the hunger pains and took away the dizziness.

They were all relieved when Peter finally staggered out of his chair and starting to pick at the food. He needed the strength to help the injuries that just seems to be getting worse as hours ticked by. The bruises across his abdomen had gone a sickly black coloured, dotted with greens and blues while the slashes across his back were still bloody and inflamed. Peter still winced at every movement, but tried his best to stretch out all of his muscles, and he was sure this limited freedom wouldn’t last for long.

In the end Peter resigned to sitting up against the wall in the far corner, finding it wasn’t any comfier than the chair but felt better than being trapped. He thought about the others, wondering if they had each been separated and were going through the same things as he was. He hoped not.

“Where the fuck are they?” Tony said to no one in particular.

Steve sighed. “You know that they will be doing everything they can.”

“Well it’s not enough, is it?” Tony yelled. His voice was scratchy and hoarse but he didn’t care. “Look at him, Steve! Look at him!”

“Tony, I know, I – “

“He is dying right in front of us! Can’t you see that?”

Steve was about to reply, but was cut off by their cell door clanging open. The guards that entered made a bee line for Steve’s chair, unlocking the cuffs and ignoring the others. 

“Hey, what’s happening?” Bucky said, furious. “Hey, assholes!”

Steve resisted the urge to throw the person holding his hands behind his back across the room, letting himself being dragged out and doing nothing to stop the sack that was pulled over his head. _Typical_.

As he was led down a hall he struggled to keep his breathing in check, knowing he needed to keep his calm and appear as indifferent as possible. But that was easier said that done, when he had no idea where he was going or what was in store for him. He remembered Fury giving a crappy presentation on what to do in hostage situations, saying _” Don’t let them see what you’re thinking,”_ but he had never thought he would actually need to apply that advice. 

Soon enough the bag was being ripped from his head, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight he was met with.

Peter was across from him, pushing himself up the opposite wall on shaky legs and staring at Steve with wide, bewildered eyes. Steve wasted no time in rushing over to Peter, not paying attention to the door that had trapped him in. He should have sensed something was wrong.

“Oh my god, Peter!” Steve said as he gripped Peter’s shoulders, who seemed to sag in relief. “Are you okay?”

Peter’s mind was racing, so surprised and overjoyed at seeing Steve that he didn’t even notice the low buzz at the back of his neck. “Mr Rogers, Sir?” 

Steve chuckled at the name, a little hysterical. “Son, we have been able to see – “

Peter’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion as Steve’s words suddenly cut off, his whole body going rigid and his eyes staring at the wall behind him. 

Peter’s heart started to thud faster as he slowly turned his head to see whatever Steve was looking at. “What’s wrong – “

A powerful punch to his stomach had Peter gasping, his legs folding inwards as he struggled to pull in another breathe. He head snapped up, terrified and confused, to see Steve looking at him to his clenched fists, wide eyed.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t why I did that.” Steve whispered, completely and utterly horrified as he stumbled away from Peter. Something was happening, he hadn’t even realised he had thrown the punch till Peter was gasping. “Something’s wrong.” Steve clenched his eyes shut as he felt control slip away from him.

It was an odd, painful feeling. He could feel he was losing the power to move his limbs, the need to give in to whatever was trying to take hold to him so tempting. It felt like a dam was cracking within him, the water threatening to drown and overtake him if he didn’t keep pushing back.

“Steve…?” Peter said, taking a careful step towards the super soldier. He didn’t know how it was happening, but he knew this wasn’t Steve. He could see the conflict behind his eyes, and could tell it was using all of his strength not to give in to whatever was trying to control him.

He must have taken a step to close, because suddenly Steve was lunging towards him, a fist slamming against the side of his head and a sharp kick to his side sending him hurling into the wall. Peter grunted and groaned in a heap on the floor, pushing himself up to see Steve a meter away from him, hands and knees on the floor.

He was breathing heavily through clenched teeth, his chest rising and falling quickly as he bowed his head and dug his fists into the floor. “Peter.” He grit out. “Get away from me. I can’t control it. I don’t know what’s happening.” His voice was tight and his body was rigid, trying to fight the searing pain in his head that burned worse the longer he resisted.

Peter did as he said, scrambling to the furthest side from him, but still letting his body fall into a defensive position. He wasn’t surprised when Steve's head snapped up, his eyes clouded with a robotic glare that definitely did not belong to Steve. Peter dodge the attack and leaped onto the wall, hoping to latch onto the ceiling.

But he wasn’t fast enough as Steve managed to grip his leg, tugging him down with a loud thud. Peter moved his head quickly, flinching at the fist that embedded itself into the floor where his head had been a moment ago. He used all of his strength to flip Steve over his head, satisfied when Steve thumped to the ground.

“Sorry!” Peter said anyway, already backing away from the man. “Steve, please! I don’t want to hurt you.” Peter knew Steve could beat him easily, especially with the state he was already in, but that didn’t mean he couldn't still do some damage.

Nothing seemed to get past his steel gaze as only seconds later, he was blocking a fist to his side and flipping out the way of another kick. “Come on, man.” Peter muttered as clumsily jumped over a kick aimed for his legs, already feeling exhausted.

He was doing okay, all things considered, blocking nearly every attack. But then, when Peter caught one of Steve’s incoming punches, his fist inches away from his face, Steve used his other hand to grab Peter’s wrist, squeezing mercilessly.

Peter heard the crunch before her felt it and couldn’t help the agonizing scream that left his throat, Steve’s fingers still squeezing the crushed bones together. The pain was dizzying and before he knew it he was on the ground, Steve’s body towering on top of him. A punch to the face and Peter was pretty sure his jaw just cracked, but he had no time to dwell on it as another was driving into his other cheek, and a few more after that in quick succession. Blood flew from his mouth, splattering across the floor as Peter choked and whimpered from each fist.

Suddenly, Steve gasped, his eyes going wide and frightened. He looked down at Peter, trying to hold back the arm that wanted to come down on him brutally. “Fight back. _Hurt me_.” Steve pushed out between clenched teeth, the searing pain in his head back full force as he tried to hold back the monster controlling him.

Peter really didn’t want to, but he also know he would die if he didn’t. In one movement, his pulled his legs up and slammed them against Steve’s chest, making him fly back and smash into the wall. As the man sprung back up, the same deadly glint in his eyes was back.

Everything screamed at him as Peter jumped back up, spots clouding his vision as his broken wrist was jolted. As he dodged a series of attacks, he thought how to stop the man without killing him.

As Steve pulled his fist back for another punch, Peter saw his opening and took it, gripping into Steve’s arm with his good hand, and yanking it with all his might. A sickening popping sound confirmed that Peter had succeeded, Steve grunting as his shoulder was dislocated. 

“Holy crap, I’m so _so _sorry, man.” Peter stuttered, already feeling guilty. “I’m really sorry for this too.”__

____

Peter drove his foot into Steve side, feeling the ribs break beneath his super strength and he wanted to be sick, because _he_ had done that. “Shit, sorry, sorry.” 

____

The dislocated shoulder and cracked ribs didn’t even seem to slow him down, as he was back up in an instant, moving efficiently. Peter took a few more hits, but also managed to get a few in himself, forcing himself to use a bit more strength. He had managed to punch Steve round the head, only to become frustrated when it didn’t knock him out. 

____

His body hurt. It hurt so bad. 

____

He was slowing down, but then so was Steve. His attacks were more sloppy, and Peter was pretty sure he had managed to crack a bone in his leg, as he was favouring the other massively. 

____

But Peter had thought too soon, as suddenly he was crashing into the white walls, Steve's arm against his collarbone. He pushed harder against him, and Peter could feel his bones bending inward. He tried to wriggle out of the grip, thrashing uselessly, but he had no leverage and Steve was pushing harder, so, so hard and – 

____

_Snap._

____

Peter screamed, the noise loud and guttural. He was sure it would have stretched out till he was sobbing, but it was cut off as two hands wrapped around his throat, painfully pressing against his windpipe and cutting off his air supply. Peter wheezed, his eyes wide with panic but could do nothing as he suffocated, staring into Steve’s cold, empty eyes. 

____

He tried to say something, but it came out as a mangled moan, the blackness across his vision overtaking him. It was agony. 

____

__But then Steve gasped loudly, taking in the sight before him. His hands were around Peter’s neck, his knuckles white and hands shaking from the exertion, and Peter’s eyes were wide, pleading with him._ _

____

__He pulled back like he had been burned, stumbling away from Peter who slumped to the floor, twitching and pulling in painful breaths. It was also then that the pain across his body became known and his leg gave way when he put pressure on it, his body falling to the ground. He kept backing up till he ran out of space, looking at the blood that was smeared across the walls and floor, and then to Peter who was sobbing silently in a heap of bruises and blood._ _

____

__Steve felt his own tears run down his face, not able to tear his eyes away from his bloody knuckles as the guilt consumed him, making it hard to breath. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out because what was he supposed to say?_ _

____

__He was terrified whatever was controlling him would do it again and he wanted to get out of this cell, get as far away from Peter as he possibly could._ _

____

__“Oh god.” He whispered, before throwing up the small meal he had eaten hours before. “Peter, I…”_ _

____

__Peter hesitantly looked up from his curled-up position, lying in a mixture of his own tears and blood. “It’s not your fault.” He stated, wincing as the words aggravated his abused throat._ _

____

__But Steve shook his head, unable to say anything because, how could he? He may not have been in control of his movements, but it was still his hands and his legs crunching Peter’s bones and tearing the skin of a sixteen-year-old boy._ _

____

__“I’m fine.” Peter croaked. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t fine._ _

____

__“I…I – oh my god. Peter, I’m so sorry.”_ _

____

__Peter met his eyes briefly. “So am I.”_ _

____

__Steve shuffled forward, each movement lighting up a new source of pain as he reached out to comfort Peter._ _

____

But the Kid flinched away - _flinched_ \- and clenched his eyes shut, trying to supress his sudden panic and Steve put his hands up in surrender as he backed away, the horror of the situation dawning on him again. 

____

__A guard rushed in, hauling Steve up by his arms and pulling at his dislocated shoulder._ _

____

__“No, wait! Let me stay with him!” Steve yelled, struggling against the grip. It was then he realised he needed to tell Peter that they could see him through his cell, the mind control cutting him off before. “Peter! We can see – “_ _

____

__Once again, his words were cut off, but instead of the icy control that had taken hold of him before, this time he was being consumed by a blazing fire, dropping to his knees and screaming against clenched teeth. The electricity raced through him and he wouldn’t have been able to get a word out if he tried. The sack was already on his head and he was stumbling out the door by the time the current had stopped, and he realised he was too late._ _

____

__***_ _

____

__Bucky was still pushing against his cuffs when the door in Peter’s cell opened, and he saw Steve being pushed in, a sack still over his head._ _

____

__“What the hell?” Bucky said, his words more confused than angry now. He could see Tony to the side, his forehead creasing._ _

____

__He watched as Steve rushed towards Peter in an instant, grateful that the boy could finally see one of them but also dreading whatever was coming. They were being too nice, letting them have a little reunion and Bucky new that if there was one thing these organisations would never do, it was to be nice._ _

____

__Bucky couldn’t help but flinch when he saw Steve’s fist slam into Peter’s stomach, jolting at the absurdity of what just happened._ _

____

__“The fuck, Rogers!” Tony yelled from the side, half angry and half baffled by the sudden attack._ _

____

__But then Bucky said the pain in Steve’s eyes as he backed away from Peter and realised that something was very wrong. “This isn’t him. Something’s controlling him.”_ _

____

__“What?” Tony said, staring at the scene before them intently._ _

____

__It clicked. “The injections. Is that possible?”_ _

____

__Tony didn’t have time to think about it because his attention was being ripped back to in front of him as Peter gasped, his head snapping to the side, followed by a sharp kick that had him hurtling into the walls. They could see the restrain in Steve’s eyes, the way his muscles were shaking with the effort of not attacking._ _

____

__“Hey! Stop this!” Bucky yelled, knowing someone would be watching. He already knew Steve wouldn’t be able to forgive himself._ _

____

__They could here Steve begging Peter to get away from him, his voice strained and veins bulging. But then whatever was trying to control Steve won, and they were forced to watch the two battle it out. Peter was already at a big disadvantage, what with his injuries and lack of web shooters which he relied heavily on, but they could also see his resistance to fight back._ _

____

__That was until they heard Steve pleading with him to fight back as he briefly came back to himself. It was brutal to watch, and Bucky couldn’t help but look away as Steve crushed the bones in Peter’s wrist, making him choke on a scream._ _

____

__Tony was shamelessly begging Lilian to stop this. It went unsaid that if he gave up information about E.D.I.T.H it wouldn’t go on any further, but he also knew he couldn’t risk that, and Peter would never forgive him if he did. Too many lives were at risk._ _

____

__Steve was starting to slow down, but not as much as Peter who was obviously having a hard time just keeping himself upright. He suspected they both had a few broken bones, mixed in with the array of bruises that were already blossoming across their skin. Every time Peter apologised, biting his lip, they could tell it was killing the boy to hurt him. They were both self-sacrificing idiots._ _

____

__Tony didn’t think it could get any worse when Peter let out a hoarse, agonised scream which was accompanied by the crack of his collar bone. But of course, that was naïve, as soon Steve’s hands were round his throat, choking the last bit of life out the boy. His struggles had became lethargic and his eyes were starting to blink closed, and it dawned on Tony that he was going to watch his Kid die, and he could do nothing to stop it._ _

____

“Please, don’t. Stop. _Please._ ” Tony sobbed, his yelling faltering with complete hopelessness. 

____

__The relief that washed over him was immense and it stole his breathe away when he finally saw Steve retract quickly, staggering to the ground. Peter pulled in heavy breathes, weakly touching at his abused neck. But he was alive._ _

____

__“Shit.” Bucky whispered. There was no turning back from this for either of them. He could see Steve backing up away as far as he could, and it was obviously he was completely horrified with what he had just done and unable to understand it._ _

____

__But suddenly the moment was over, as guards were approaching Steve and he was yelling, fight against them with everything he had left. Bucky wasn’t surprised when he collapsed a second later, writhing in agony, but it was still heart breaking to watch._ _

____

__“Stop!” Peter had croaked out, reaching a bloody hand across the floor._ _

____

__The door to their cell was roughly swung open, Tony and Bucky being able to do nothing but watch as Steve was practically dragged in, his body still twitching from the aftershocks. He was deposited into his chair in a heap and Steve went limp as his restraints were fastened around his ankles and wrists, blinking slowly._ _

____

__When the guards left, their cell descended into an eerie silence for too long, the only sounds being Steve’s harsh breathing as he stared at Peter, who hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor. Every now and then he would let out a deep, raspy moan, or his body would twitch slightly, but other than that he lay still, trying not to aggravate his injuries._ _

____

__Bucky had been staring at Steve, his mouth slightly open with words that never came. He knew he had to say something, anything at this point, because the silence was too thick, heavy with the weight of what just happened._ _

____

__It was like if Bucky could say the right words in the right order, everything would be okay. He new no words existed, but that didn’t stop him from searching for them._ _

____

__“Steve…” Bucky finally managed._ _

____

__Steve's eyes didn’t leave Peter’s mangled body and he said nothing, made no indication that he had ever heard him._ _

____

__“It’s not your fault.” Bucky said with more confidence._ _

____

__Still Steve remained quiet as a stray tear slipped down his cheek, glistening in the darkness that had fallen over their rooms. None of them had realised the change in light, too preoccupied with the elephant in the room to notice anything, but now the only light source available was a white light above each of their chairs. It was like what you would see in a movie, when the main bad guy was being interrogated. It was unsettling to say the least._ _

____

__***_ _

____

__When Peter came too, the first thing he noticed was the pain._ _

____

And then morbidly, he couldn’t help but think _’well, at least I’m not dead… right?’_. 

____

__Sure, from being down here for a few days now he was used to being in constant pain, but this low burning that was spreading through him was different – it was constant, and sharp and achy all at the same time, stealing his breath away._ _

____

The second thing he noticed was _why_ he had woken up. Someone was lifting him – wait, _no_ , someone was dragging him along the floor, and every bump or graze or pull left waves of agony coursing through him. Peter vaguely realised he was being held up by two guards who had pulled his arms behind his back, but he was too out of it to think of a snarky comment, a wet ‘mmmph’ sound pushing past his lips instead. 

____

__His legs could barely take any weight, leaving him to be relying on the guards behind him to keep him upright which was incredibly embarrassing. He didn’t think he could miss the floor so much. This new position was torturous, seeming to hit every sore spot in his body in just the wrong, that sent spikes of pain through every nerve. He didn’t even have the energy to scream or cry, his eyes slipping shut instead._ _

____

__Peter was so close into falling back into that weightless void that took the pain away, when icy cold water was splashed over his face, soaking his head and making him gasp awake. His eyes scanned his familiar cell as he panicked from being made alert so quickly._ _

____

__Water dribbled down his face and Peter couldn’t help but start to shiver, not sure whether it was due to the cold or pain from his injuries. A part of him welcomed the water though, as it spurred him out of the incoherent jumble of thoughts that had been keeping his movements slow and sloppy. He hated the lack of control._ _

____

Lilian was there - _what a surprise_ \- and Peter managed a small nod of acknowledgement, still breathing heavily. 

____

__It was darker than usual, he suddenly noticed, making him have to squint to see Lilian who stood before him, her arms crossed and a small smirk on her cherry lips._ _

____

__“That’s it? No greeting?” She taunted, slowly curling her fingers around Peter’s shoulder, making him moan loudly when she put pressure on his broken collar bone. “I won’t lie, you aren’t looking so pretty right now.”_ _

____

__Peter didn’t need to look at himself to know that was true._ _

____

__The fact Peter couldn’t bring himself to say anything worried him, why was he suddenly becoming too struck with terror to be witty?_ _

____

__“You know,” She carried on, “Since you got here I haven’t stopped asking myself, ‘how has a fifteen year old boy not broken under our torture’?”_ _

____

__“I’m sixteen.” Peter muttered under his breath, even though it rubbed at his vocal cords._ _

____

__“But I finally figured it out.”_ _

____

__Peter lifted his head to meet her eyes._ _

____

__“You care about people too much. Your family is the only thing keeping you going, and you know what that makes you? It makes you weak. And it also made me realise that we have been going about this the wrong way.”_ _

____

__A deep fear started to seep into his bones as Peter stared at her._ _

____

__“You know me, I like to fix things. When I find something that isn’t functioning how I want it to, what do I do?” Lilian backed away, her hand reaching to the switch on the wall. “I eliminate the problem.”_ _

____

__Peter stared, struck with terror and confusion, as the white wall in front of him flicked to clear glass, so he had the perfect view of the other side._ _

____

__“Mr Stark?” Peter whispered in complete shock; his eyes locked onto Tony’s._ _

____

__It was the cell he had been in before, with Tony, Steve, and Bucky still restrained to their chairs. He gasped, realising that maybe they had been able to see him the whole time._ _

____

__Tony was looking at him with a pained expression, but he didn’t say anything, which Peter should have noticed was strange, but he was so caught up in the horror of what was happening he didn’t question it._ _

____

__Adams was across from him, in their cell, standing behind Bucky, the cold metal of a gun pushed against the back of his head._ _

____

_Eliminate the problem._

____

__It hadn’t clicked then but now he understood, and he was already weakly struggling against the men holding him. “No, no – wait, don’t!”_ _

____

_Bang._

____

__The sound was deafening. It was sudden, and devastating, and ear splitting, and crippling all at the same time. Peter felt his whole-body jolt, a gasp escaping him at the sight in front of him._ _

____

__Bucky was slumped forward._ _

____

__He was still._ _

____

__Blood coated the floor in front of him in a beautiful painting of injustice that taunted him, the substance running down his body and surrounding his chair. He was so still._ _

____

__Peter didn’t know what to do, whether to scream or cry or grieve and he had no time to decide, because Adam’s was lifting the same gun up to Steve’s head and Peter knew he couldn’t bare to see it happen again but he couldn’t get a word out, couldn’t move a muscle because they were going to kill him too, they were going to –_ _

____

_Bang._

____

__Somehow it felt louder, more painful than the last, the dread shooting through his bones like the bullet lodged in Steve’s skull. Peter could feel he was hyperventilating, and he was distantly aware that there was something warm dripping from his ears but he didn’t care. His stomach lurched violently, and his head was being shoved to the side and he gagged, his ribs screaming at him._ _

____

__Bucky and Steve were dead._ _

____

__Peter saw Adams move towards Tony, his movements slow and tormenting as he stepped around the pools of blood as if they were just stains on a carpet._ _

____

“No, not him. _Please._ ” Peter was pleading, begging, yelling at them before he even felt the words leave his throat. “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t – no, oh god.” 

____

__Agonisingly slowly, Adams lifted the gun to Tony’s head, who was thrashing in his chair, his eyes locked with Peter’s. Adams’ finger hovered over the trigger, tapping it lightly._ _

____

“No, no, no! Please don’t! You can’t – no!” Peter's broken sobs came out as hoarse screams, every sound scraping against his raw throat. He couldn’t lose Tony. “I’ll do anything, please – just, kill me instead! Stop, no, please.” He had to tell him before it was too late. “Wait, no! _Mr stark_ , I love – “ 

__

__Peter should have looked away._ _

__

__He should have closed his eyes._ _

__

__But he didn’t._ _

__

Everything seemed to happen too slow yet too fast. Peter barely heard the _bang_ over the wrenching in his heart, a white noise filling his ears as he stared ahead of him. The image of Tony’s head snapping forward and blood splattering onto the floor was repeating in his head like a mantra, echoing through his mind so he couldn’t see anything apart from his limp, lifeless body. 

__

__As the shot had been fired, Peter’s fighting ceased. The feeling was overwhelming and all consuming, crushing every piece of happiness that made him Peter, and the pain was unbearable._ _

__

__He screamed. He grit his teeth, jaw grinding together as the scream pushed past his lips, the sound so harrowing and raw that it made his head pound and scraped at his abused throat. But he didn’t stop, anything to try expel the growing melancholy that was taking root in his gut._ _

__

__But as Peter looked at the three dead bodies on the floor, that feeling of despair started to morph into an anger he had never felt before. It burned a little less than the grief and it felt easier to control, easier to manipulate, as if he could take that fury and use it to block everything else out._ _

__

_They did this._

__

__Peter must have stopped screaming because now his chest was heaving._ _

__

__The guards didn’t expect it when Peter suddenly forced his elbow back, his arm ploughing into their ribs as Peter spun round, roughly shoving the man on his right. He didn’t hold back like he usually would, and he didn’t falter when the guard smashed into the wall opposite them, his head smacking onto the ground. The other guard didn’t stand a chance as Peter’s eyes glazed over with a disturbing look of anger and sadness._ _

__

__The man was unconscious in a instant as his skull cracked under Peter’s fist._ _

__

But Peter didn’t care because _they did this_. 

__

__He had to get to Mr Stark, had to say goodbye, had to shut their eyes so it looked like they were sleeping, had to hold him one more time, had to cry into his arms, had to say goodbye -_ _

__

__Peter was pounding against the glass before he even registered it, his knuckles breaking under the force of his ruthless punches. He moved back slightly and threw his shoulder into the glass, not feeling the pain but seeing a small crack in the glass. He did it again. And again. And again._ _

__

__They had taken everything away from him, slaughtered it in front of him. Things were different now, he knew that, they had unleashed a feeling of pure fire that he hadn't known since the night Uncle Ben died and it made him dangerous, because all he wanted was to say goodbye to Mr Stark, then kill every damn mother-fucker that had lead to this day. He should have been scared of what he had become, but that feeling was weak, undeniably insignificant compared to the soul-crushing grief that was tunnelling his vision._ _

__

Because he loved him. And he needed him. And now he was gone. _Gone._

__

__His body was numb, but he wouldn’t stop trying to break through. Each punch or kick or slam was uncoordinated and desperate, but full of enhanced power as he sobbed uncontrollably._ _

__

Because even though he would be a lifeless corpse, he just had to say goodbye, give him once last hug, he just had to. _I’m so sorry, Mr Stark._

__

__The glass shattered._ _

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: broken bones/blood/injury detail. Gunshots to the head (pretty graphic). Also panic attacks, possible disassociation (it isn't directly mentioned but as a lot of it is from Peter's point of view, it could be interpreted as that.) If there is anything I forgot to mention please point it out in the comments and I'll add it straight away.
> 
> Also dudes, I'll admit that lockdown is hitting me pretty hard at the moment and I'm struggling a bit (as is everyone, I'm sure), which is why i feel like my writing standard could be slipping. I hope it's not, and it could be my imagination, but if it is, I'm really sorry. Anyway, I'm hopeful things will start getting easier and i become more motivated again.
> 
> Thanks for everyone's support for this fic and I'll see you next week!


	6. Chapter 6

_Tap, tap tap._

Tony’s leg had been bouncing non-stop, his foot tapping against the floor, a nervous tick he had supressed years ago, resurfacing with a new vengeance.

Lilian was in Peter’s cell, prancing around him like he was some object to be auctioned off and it made him sick, the way she would lightly graze her fingers over his bare skin, or whisper sayings into this ear. He could see that Peter felt the same way too as his lip would twitch every now and then with a bitten back insult, or how he wouldn’t be able to supress the full body shivers when she got a little too close.

Steve had been quieter than he had ever heard him. He was hunched in on himself, staring at the same spot on the glass like he had been for the last hour, his eyes glazed over and unseeing. Both and he and Bucky had tried to get his attention a few times, but nothing seemed to work and they figured he needed time to think.

Tony was beginning to zone out of the conversation as sleep pulled at his eyelids, he was halfway to drifting off, halfway to giving up on paying attention when something caught his eyes. Peter was staring forward at him, like finally - _finally_ he could see through the glass that was separating them.

“ _Mr Stark?_

Now that definitely woke him up. 

“Peter! Oh my god, can you here me?” he was yelling in an instant and so were the others.

But that hope vanished just as quickly as it came when Peter didn’t respond, only seemed to get more fearful the longer he looked past the glass.

It was like something had struck Peter as suddenly he was weakly struggling at the men holding him. “No, no – wait, don’t!”

A loud bang reverberated in Tony’s ears, so loud he could feel it in his bones. His head whipped around at the sound because something that loud must have been in the same room as them, but save for Steve, Bucky and him the room was empty. 

“What the fuck was that?” Tony spat, a little worried he had imagined it and was finally going insane.

“Sounded like a gunshot.” Bucky supplied.

“What’s wrong with Peter…” Steve said quietly.

Tony was about to scoff and mutter something along the lines of ‘ _what isn’t wrong with Peter, right now_ ’ but the comment died in his throat when he saw how scared Steve looked, staring ahead of him. He slowly turned his head towards Peter to see that he looked shell-shocked. Frozen still except for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He looked completely traumatised, unable to move.

Then without warning another bang ripped through the air, making them all jolt in their seats. Still nothing in their cell looked wrong, but judging by the distraught look on Peter’s face, something definitely was. He was crying now, still staring straight through the glass at them, but still not really seeing them.

“I think they are showing him an illusion of some kind.” Bucky studied the glass for any signs.

Steve looked at Bucky. “Could they even do that?”

“They have been recording us none stop. It would be easy to manipulate some old footage to make a new video, but Peter doesn’t know that.” Tony added.

_Tap, tap, tap._ It was hard to not look away, he hated the tortuous look on Peter’s face.

“They are killing us.” Bucky whispered suddenly.

“What?”

“That’s what they are, the bangs – they're gunshots, just not real! They’re making Peter think we're dead!”

As if on cue, Peter grew hysterical, thrashing in the guards grasp and screaming at them. “No, not him. _Please._ Just don’t – no, oh god.”

Tony hated this so much. It wouldn’t matter how much he begged or fought, Peter wouldn’t be able to hear him. And with a sickening realisation, he started to realise that Peter thought he was next. “Kid…” He whispered in despair.

“No, no, no! Please don’t! You can’t – no! I’ll do anything, please – just, kill me instead! Stop, no, please.” 

It was unbearable, absolutely unbearable and Tony knew he would never get the sound out of his head. And even though he was confined to this chair with no way of reaching Peter, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was his fault, all of it, and if he had been a better hero (father), he could have saved Peter from this, because no one, and least of all him, deserved it.

“Wait, no! _Mr stark_ , I love – “

Peter was cut off, immediately going still and silent as the bang reverberated round the room, piecing his ears, and making him jerk again in his seat. And then Peter was screaming, like, _really_ screaming, a kind of noise that could only come from someone grieving.

A tear slipped down Tony’s tear as he watched him, Peter’s teeth grinding together in a way that must be painful and his already abused throat being torn apart, inside out, from the boys melancholy shrieks. It was unlike anything he had ever heard before, and a selfish part of him was suddenly glad he didn’t know Peter when his Uncle died, because seeing him so broken, so completely damaged was making it hard to breath, and he could focus on nothing but his continued cries and his empty eyes that still seemed to stare straight into his soul even though he knew, he _knew_ Peter couldn’t see him. And though it was ridiculous, Tony couldn’t help think _’but am I dead?_ because everything felt so real, so final in a way that sat heavy in his bones.

He couldn’t watch anymore because he was sure his heart would give out if he didn’t, his eyes squeezing shut as if he could block out the reality of what was happening. It was only when the screams died down and the thick silence returned that he opened his eyes, and just in time too as suddenly an angry fire had glazed over Peter’s eyes and he through a forceful elbow back, with more strength and determination that he had ever seen in him before.

Tony blinked and both guards were on the ground, surrounded by their own blood and out cold. He prayed they weren’t dead, not because those sick bastards deserved to live – he would kill them himself – but because he knew Peter would never forgive himself if he killed them despite what they had done, and Tony wasn’t sure if that was something he could carry.

A loud thump against the glass had Tony’s head snapping back to the action, and he winced as Peter threw his fist against the glass, hearing a crack, whether it was bone or glass, it made him feel sick. Both fists pummelled into the glass, and Tony realised it must have been enforced, or laced with Vibrainium, because it wasn’t breaking like it should have.

Tony watched as Peter backed up, only to force his entire left side into the glass brutally with a strained sob. The boy was hysterical, delirious with grief and he hated he was causing his body so much pain, but he also understood. If it was Peter dead, a bullet in his brain, Tony would stop at nothing to get to him.

His relentless punching and pounding grew stronger, along with his cries and a fresh wave of angry tears, until finally, the wall shattered, sending shards of glass everywhere.

Tony turned his face away and snapped his eyes shut, as did the others, a few sharp pieces slashing into their skin, but nothing serious. When Peter had burst through he rolled along the floor, the strength behind his hits sending him into the ground forcefully.

“Peter, Kid. You’re… you’re okay. Look at me – I’m f- fine.” Tony stuttered, his voice croaky and quiet.

Peter’s whole body went stiff, his body in a hunched position and his face towards the floor so he hadn’t seen him yet. At first he didn’t look up, probably too afraid that his mind was playing tricks on him, and he would be face to face with three rotting bodies.

“Kid - please. I’m right here.” Tony knew he was pleading but he didn’t care.

“We’re all okay, Peter. What you saw wasn’t real.” Steve said slowly, like he was talking to a wild animal that could take flight at any moment.

Still Peter didn’t look up, his heavy breathing cutting through the air. But finally, his head lifted slightly and his eyes trailed upwards, locking eyes with Tony. 

“Are… are you real?” Peter whispered eventually.

“Yeah, Buddy, I’m real. We’re all okay.” Tony replied instantly. He hated he couldn’t reach out and touch him, hold him.

Peter threw his arms around Tony; a sob being muffled against his shirt as he buried his head into his mentor’s neck. And it was then that Tony remembered not only did he watch the three of them die, he hadn’t seen them for at least two days, all while he was being cruelly tortured. It hurt him physically that he couldn’t wrap his arms around him, or even lean into the hug, but the restraints around his limbs kept him firmly in place.

But maybe they would be okay. Peter was strong ad Tony would always be there for him.

Tony shouldn’t have been surprised when the guards swarmed the cell, stepping over the shattered glass and tearing Peter away from him. The moment of calm amidst the hurricane was gone, stripped away from them. He tried to yell, scream at them to just give them a few more minutes together but it was useless.

Peter’s body had gone limp, his adrenaline crashing and every ounce of energy he had mustered leaving his body. He was being strapped back into that godamn chair, yet again, but at least now they could see each other, and he wasn’t alone. Tony doubted Lilian would go through the trouble of reconstructing the wall.

“Queens, you okay?” Steve said once the guards had left.

Tony wanted to scream at him, of course he wasn’t okay, but bit back the urge.

Peter pulled his head up to look at Steve, despite the momentary fear of looking him in the eye. “Uh, yeah. I guess.” He croaked. His throat was even more swollen, and each word came out as painful whisper. Peter looked at the shattered glass, and it was only then that he realised they had been their the whole time. “Wait… could you see me? This whole time?”

Tony hesitated before he answered – should he lie? But his moment of silence as answer for Peter enough as he suddenly looked away, ashamed.

“Holy cow…” Peter rasped. He couldn’t help but think back to every time he cried when he thought he was alone, or screamed because the pain became too much. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Kid.” Tony said, because what else was he meant to say.

Peter nodded his head slowly, knowing it wasn’t true but still appreciating his words. He thought he would be relived when he was finally reunited with the others, but there was no room for any other feeling other than fear. The kind that kept you heart beating a little faster than normal, your muscles so tense they would lock up. 

A deep groan escaped Peter’s lips and he immediately clamped his mouth shut, holding back any other sounds. His whole body was throbbing with a new vengeance, making it difficult to concentrate on anything but the sheer pain that radiated through him. And to make things worse, he felt the wetness of tears on his cheeks, because of course, after everything that had already happened, he just _had_ to start crying in front of his heroes. And it was worse than before when he thought no one was watching, because then he didn’t have to look anyone in the eye, or accept the fact that he was too weak to be an Avenger.

“Sorry.” Peter croaked; his voice strained from trying to hold back the sobs he was desperate to release. 

“Don’t apologise.” Tony said a little too harshly. “you’re okay.”

Peter sniffled. “It just really hurts.”

Everyone was quiet for moment before Bucky spoke. “If you need to cry, Kid, that’s okay. No one will think any less of you.” Bucky had been there, he knew what it was like the think he had to be strong, when really, he just had to let someone in.

Peter cried silently. His breathes were ragged and his cheeks were wet, but he didn’t sob or wail.

“Can you guys, uh, talk about something, please. Anything just to - just to take my mind off the, uh, pain.” Peter stared at his lap. Whenever he looked up, he saw the bullets ripping through their heads, the blood splattering against the glass. It made him sick. It wasn't real, he had to remind himself.

When nobody said anything, Peter squeezed his eyes shut so much it hurt, but he couldn’t bare to see the way they were looking at him. He knew they thought he was broken, and messy, and hurt beyond repair.

But then Bucky, of all people, cleared his throat. “Uh, back when Steve was just a little guy and I still had to pull him out of dumpsters – “

Steve scoffed, shaking his head but smiling.

“- well, when we would get out of school, we would always head down to this lake that was surrounded by this massive forest. The pollution was so bad back then it was one of the only places you could actually breathe, and we weren’t the most popular kids, so it was nice to be on our own.”

For the first time, Tony looked at Bucky a little differently. He had always saw him as a cold ex-soldier, who was too guarded to show affection, but then he started realising how hard it must have been for both him and Steve to come into a world they weren’t apart of and leave their old one behind.

“And anyway, one time we went down there in the winter, and Steve threw an apple at my head, which surprisingly, did hit me, so in retaliation, I picked him up and threw him into the lake. You should have seen his face when he hit the water, it was the hardest I think I’ve ever laughed.” Bucky chuckled.

“Hey! I got hypothermia from that!” Steve protested.

Tony barked a laugh. “Wow, so you really have been a Capsicle all along?”

Peter’s lips turned up in a small smile, which felt like an amazing achievement.

“ _Haha_ , very funny.” Steve looked at Tony. “Maybe, I should mention the time we walked in on you and Pepper having – “

Tony’s eyes went wide. “Whey- hey, now. Not in front of the kid, he’s too pure to be hearing those kinds of things.”

Peter rolled his eyes, digging his nails into his palms when it made him dizzy.

Bucky chuckled, “Oh, come on, Stark. By the time I was his age – “

“Nope. Not having that conversation. Nope, definitely not.”

If Peter could have blushed he would have, but the pale sicky colour that had washed over his features was too overpowering. 

Without warning, Lilian was storming in, her movements a little frantic and her eyes wild, completely the opposite of the calm and collected person she usually was. Her eyes met Tony’s as she yelled, “Did you know?”

Tony became confused, no clue on what she was on about.

“About the boy’s parents, did you know? Is that why you keep him around?” She urged.

Peter’s back straightened immediately at hearing that. What did she know about his parents? He barely knew anything, and he was their son.

“The fuck are you on about?” Tony snapped back.

Lilian became less agitated at that, tilting her head. “So, you don’t know. Peter Parker, you are the son of Richard and Mary Parker, yes?”

Peter nodded slowly.

“I can’t believe it took me this long to connect the dots.” She huffed a laugh.

“What do you know about my parents?” Peter’s voice was gaining confidence again.

“Parker – it’s a common name, I just _assumed_ because, because surely they would have known, surely they wouldn’t be so stupid. There was no evidence, or any indication that they planned to go ahead with it.” Lilian was talking to herself, her thoughts racing as she tried to piece together the puzzle. Everything was making sense yet getting more complicated at the same time. “I never knew that they had a child, there was no evidence of him existing, so of course I wouldn’t know – “

“Get to the point.” Bucky growled, to which Lilian stopped her pacing and turned to face Peter.

“Richard and Mary Parker were agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. I worked alongside them for five years.”

Time seemed to slow down for Peter. She was lying - she had to be. It was some sort of trick to get in his head. “You’re lying.” He said, through gritted teeth.

“Oh, Sweetie, but I’m not. We were scientists, working together to develop something that was bigger than all of us. We were going to change the world.”

Tony couldn’t process all the new information. He had run background check-ups, read countless files on Peter and his family, but nothing pointed towards this. His parents were supposed to be accountants. Boring, mundane accountants. 

“A serum to create super soldiers, to create something that would protect our planet. They combined the serum with their DNA to test it, but it was never successful, that is, until you. You ae what we’ve been searching for, and you’ve been right here under my nose the whole time. You are proof that we did it.” Lilian started to pace again.

“I don’t understand.” Peter whispered.

“But then they started to say that it was too dangerous, that people would die.” She continued, “Which is bullshit, because of course people would die, but it would be for the greater good. They were weak. When I refused to backdown, they told me they were go to the head of S.H.I.E.L.D. I would have lost all my work. So, I did what I had to do.”

Peter’s heart started to thud louder in his chest. “What are you saying?”

Lilian reached forward and grabbed a fist full of Peter’s hair, tugging it forward painfully so his face was inches from hers. “I’m _saying_ , that maybe your parents shouldn’t have stuck their noses where it didn’t belong, maybe they were too weak to do what needed to be done, and _maybe_ , I was the one that suggested their plane didn’t make it back to New York.”

The cell descended into a thick silence.

“You’re the reason they’re dead.” Peter murmured, his eyes fixed with Lilian’s, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You killed them.”

Lilian smirked, letting go of his hair to trace her fingers down the side of his face. “Collateral damage.” She shrugged, pulling out the metal rod that was hidden beneath her jacket, and pressing it firmly against Peter’s bare chest.

Immediately his back arched and he threw his head back, letting out a hoarse scream as the electricity running through his body didn’t cease. He could barely hear the yells of his teammates through the haze of fiery pain. She only let up when a small radio attached to her utility belt cackled to life, the grainy words _’Code Red,’_ being repeated. She backed away from a gasping Peter without another word, leaving their cell promptly. 

“Kid, you okay?” Tony said. He hated how much he had to ask that question, even though every time he said it he already knew the answer.

Peter didn’t answer, his brows pulled together, when he heard a distant sound. It was so far away it was hard to make out, but it was different to the usual footsteps or voices he could constantly here. “Do you hear that?” He rasped, trying to concentrate his hearing.

Bucky and Steve looked at each other, slightly alarmed when they heard it too.

It was getting closer too – a deep rumbling from below them, the kind of white noise you hear when there are so many sounds at once. Then, as it became louder, Peter could make out the sounds of explosions and weaponry. 

“What? What is it?” Tony urged impatiently. It was stressful being the only one not enhanced, he hated being left out of the loop.

“Gunfire.” Steve whispered, both in astonishment and trepidation. Could it be them? Had the Avengers finally found them? Or was it something bigger, more powerful and eviller breaking down the walls?

The walls rocked as a tremor spread through the building, making dust fall from the ceiling. Peter held his breath as a new fear entirely sprang to mind – what if the building collapsed and they were still stuck to these chairs? It would be just like homecoming. Just like Toomes.

“Could it be…” Tony started to voice his hopes but trailed off, as if saying their names would set them up to be disappointed when this wasn’t a rescue mission after all.

A particular loud explosion followed by a muffled array of gunshot sounded accompanied by hurrying footsteps.

Peter nearly jolted out of his skin when something thumped loudly against their cell door. It had no window so they couldn’t see outside, and they all held their breath as someone continued to bang against it. This was it. This was what they had been waiting for.

Peter could hear a faint ticking sound and by the time he registered what it was, his Spidey-Sense was tingling and the door was blown off it’s hinges, flying across the room. He turned his head away as glass, debris and fire flew through the air, the flames making his body hot and the force pushing him further into his chair. Shards of sharp materials cut into his cheeks and bare chests, but compared to the injuries he had already sustained, he was okay.

The clouds of dust and smoke that hovered in the air made it hard to see and breath, the three coughing and spluttering to expel the particles from their lungs. It was hard to see so they had to squint, waiting for the clouds to settle till they could see who was standing in the doorway. They could just make out a silhouetted figure, standing amidst the debris and fire.

But finally, the figure stepped through the doorway and into the room, taking stock of the situation till their face plate lifted up, revealing their identity

“Thank, _fuck_.” Rhodey said, his shoulder sagging in relief.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey bros!
> 
> Super excited to get this chapter out to you.
> 
> Your comments have absolutely blown me away and I love you all so much for keeping up with this story. It's made me so motivated lately that I've managed to bang out two and a half chapter in one week, so if I keep up this pace I might try release another chapter before next Sunday. All the support makes my heart melt.
> 
> All warnings are the same as previous chapters.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Peter nearly cried with joy, the relief so overwhelming his body heaved a long, heavy sigh, as even though they weren’t safe yet, he had hope.

“Took your damn time!” Tony said finally, never so happy to see his best friend.

Rhodes didn’t waste a second, preparing his laser to cut through the cuffs off Bucky, who was in the chair closest to him. 

“Get the Kid out first.” Bucky said though, gesturing forward with his eyes.

Rhodes then spun round, not having seen Peter at first as he was on the other side of the room, sitting across from the shattered glass wall. His breath hitched when he took in the sight of the boy, seeing the deep cuts and extensive bruising and the pale skin and the tear tracks on his cheeks and the sheer amount of _blood_ that covered him, his chair, and the floor beneath him.

He knew Peter, Tony’s intern, and the kid was undeniably loveable, somehow managing to worm his way into the heart of anyone he met. Peter was often hanging around the tower, and as he was as well, he ran into him quite a lot, sometimes even playing a game or two of Mario Kart with him if he was free, or making him a sandwich because he was a growing teenager. The Avengers knew the intern was missing as well, but he could never had expected this. 

“Shit, man.” Rhodes muttered as he crossed his way to him, his metal boots crunching against the glass. He tried not to look at the pools of vomit and blood on the floor, the sight making him want to gag, instead focusing on the cuffs around Peter’s limbs.

“The restraints, they’re Vibranium. You won’t be able to cut through them.” Steve said, to which Rhodes closed his eyes in frustration because, _of course_ , they were made of the only material he couldn’t cut through. The Avengers didn’t do things by halves, that’s for sure.

Another tremor shook the building, and everyone tensed. The gunfire and explosions hadn’t stopped or even quietened, sounding like it was coming from all levels and directions.

“Well, seems like the party is still in full swing.” Tony said with a sarcastic thumbs up. “Don’t suppose you bought anyone else with you, dear?”

Rhodes was about to reply when another figure rounded the corner, holding up their arms defensively, red hair swaying above their shoulders.

He held an arm up, Repulsors charged and ready to fire, only to slump when Natasha Romanoff held her arms up in surrender. Quickly and efficiently, she took note of the situation, her jaw tightening slightly when she saw Peter.

“Looking for these?” She said, holding up a pair of rusty keys. She beelined for Peter, unlocking his restraints and taking his weight when he slumped forward.

Peter gave her a lazy smile, soaking in her scent. “Hey…” His greeting morphed into a wheeze as her hand brushed against his broken ribs, the area flaring up with pain.

“Hey, Spider-Kid.” Natasha replied, trying to manoeuvre him out the chair while Rhodes unlocked the others.

Rhodes spluttered, “Hold up – “

Peter’s eyes went wide. “How do you know – “

“I’m a spy, Peter. And you are terrible at keeping secrets.” She gave him a pointed lack as his mouth hung open.

“ _Peter’s_ Spider-Man? The hell?” Rhodes had halted his movements to stare between Peter and Natasha, biting his tongue and turning back around when he knew now wasn’t the time to be asking questions. “I don't not get paid enough for this shit.” He muttered under his breath.

Once Tony was out of the seat, he mumbled a quick thank you to Rhodes and patted him on the back, before rushing over to Peter. His legs were cramped from not moving for so long and he stumbled on his way, but he managed to make his way over.

He slung an arm under Peter’s shoulder, whispering reassuring words as Peter grit his teeth and grunted. But the movement jolted his collar bone and he couldn’t help but cry out, shutting his eyes so he didn’t cry _again_.

“You look like shit.” Rhodes commented as he looked as Steve’s broken bones and numerous contusions. He and Bucky went on either side of Steve, both slinging an arm under his to support his weight.

“Feel like shit.” Steve mumbled in agreement as they shuffled towards the door.

“ _Language_ ,” both Tony and Natasha shot back at the same time, as they helped Peter out the door.

Rhodes looked down the halls, finding that they were empty, but the sound of gunfire wasn’t far away. “This place is swarmed with guards. The rest of the team are taking them out on lower levels but we need to get out of here quickly.”

Peter held back his cries of pain as they started to jog through the maze of corridors, but luckily his legs didn’t seem to be injured so he could at least move on his own.

Now that Natasha was closer to Peter, helping him along with Stark who was dead on his feet, she started to feel sick at his injuries. She tried to avoid touching the lashes that were carved into his back, still raw and bloody, but they were everywhere, and she could see the crack in his collar bone from where she stood, and how he was cradling his left right wrist to his chest. Not to mention the skin across his abdomen that had gone black with dried blood and bruises, matching the handprints around his neck. He smelled horrid, which wasn’t surprising, and she couldn’t help but notice the damp patch of wet that ran from his crotch down his trouser leg, hating how humiliated he must have felt.

She could see he was trying not to cry – the way his lip twitched, and how he squeezed his eyes shut every few seconds were obvious tells. But still, the boy was soldiering on and jogging alongside them down the halls.

The building rumbled violently, bits of rock and dust falling form the ceiling. Tony through his arms over Peter’s body, hoping to protect his head from any falling objects.

Clint Barton appeared at the end of the hallway; his bow still raised in defence. He lowered it slightly when he saw the group, breathing heavily and wiping sweat from his forehead. He gave them the same look Natasha had given Peter when she first saw his state but didn’t say anything as he jogged to meet them.

“Sup’,” he nodded, feeling awkward. “Glad you guys aren’t dead.”

“Good to see you, Birdbrain.” Tony nodded back. He shook his head when spots clouded his vision for a few seconds, three days with barely any food or water catching up to him.

Clint raised a hand to Bucky in a high five, Bucky clumsily returning the gesture, even though it was probably an inappropriate thing to be high fiving. They weren’t safe yet.

Clint led the way down the hall, gesturing with his hands for them to keep moving. “Pepper’s nearly done taking out the guards on the ground level.”

“ _Pepper’s_ here?” Tony blurted a little too loudly. Sure, he had made her that silver suit in his spare time as a gift because he didn't know how else to show affection, but he didn’t think she would ever have to actually use it.

Clint rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t taking no for as answer, trust me.”

A particularly loud bang followed by the shake of the building had them all stumbling, Peter letting out a loud moan as he tried to regain his footing. Only seconds later, an ear-piercing alarm started to blare accompanied by flashing red light, making Steve, Bucky and Peter wince, thanks to their enhanced senses. Still, they ignored it, continued to trudge down the hall.

A door to their left burst open, a guard charging into Bucky and tackling him away from Steve and Rhodes. Everyone with one raised their weapons, but held their fire when Bucky yelled out, the electrocuting rod pressed to his neck. The guard was tall and large, holding a strong arm around Bucky’s chest and keeping him their like a human shield. The man had greasy blonde hair, shaved at the sides, and a black nose ring that matched his uniform.

"Hey, stop that you bastard!" Clint yelled immediately, rage burning inside him.

Bucky twitched and groaned, his teeth grinding together as the fire raced through his body, heaving breaths in when it finally stopped. He tried not to lean into his captor but the after shocks were making his muscles tremble.

The click of something cold and metallic told Bucky they were holding a gun to his head, and the look of his teammates faces confirmed it.

“Take a step closer and I shoot.” The guard ordered, his voice gruff. “Drop your weapons.”

When the team hesitated, he pressed the barrel into his skull, so hard he felt the sin break and had to bite down on a moan. 

Now, Bucky was _really_ pissed off. “I swear to fuck, if you don’t let me go – “

His words were cut off by an ear-piercing bang, and a sharp pain in his knee. He yelped, the sound more like a low growl, and then slammed his lips shut to fend off any other embarrassing noises. He was lucky, the bullet was just a graze and he wouldn’t bleed out from it, but it still hurt like a bitch.

Steve had tried to step forward but froze when Rhodes tugged his arm back in a warning, and noticed the gun was already repositioned to pointing at the back of his head.

“Hey man, you don’t need to do this.” Rhodes said gently, his repulsors lowered.

The man’s laugh was harsh and deranged, a crazy glint in his eye. It showed all of his teeth, most chipped, and a silver one standing out against the rest. “I don’t think so. Hand the boy over, and I’ll let you go.”

Peter went rigid, trying to even his breathing.

“There is no way in _hell_ that’s happening.” Bucky spat, despite the looming threat of both the gun and electrocuting rod.

“Yep, sorry, no can do. Kid is off limits.” Tony said, his tone lacking it’s usual sarcasm.

The man shook his head and tightened the grip on the gun, his finger moving to press against the trigger. “Then you give me no choice.”

Steve’s heart dropped. “Wait - !”

One more second and it would have been too late. One more second and Bucky’s brains would have been splattered across the floor.

A bang sounded, but not from the guards gun. Bucky flinched, closing his eyes and preparing for darkness but it didn’t come. The guard that had been keeping him hostage released his grip, slumping to the floor, dead. Bucky turned around in shock, and the others looked ahead past him.

“Boom!” Sam Wilson yelled from the other end of the hall, blowing the barrel of his gun dramatically. As he jogged over he had a wide grin on his face that slowly fell when he got closer, taking in the state of their kidnapped teammates.

Steve was bloody and bruised, looking at him with relief in Rhodes’ hold. Bucky was standing on his side, heavily leaning on one leg as the other was coated in a growing patch of red. He shot him a quick thumbs up. Peter looked like an extra from a horror movie, covered head to toe in dried and new blood; his face, neck and torso covered in sickly colours that stood out against his pale skin.

“Shit, man.” Sam commented, sobering up. They started to continue down the hall, the flashing light and alarm still blearing.

“I think they are trying to blow the place up.” Clint said as they started to jog down a winding flight of stairs. “Whatever is in here, they must really want to stay hidden.”

“Brilliant.” Steve grunted, holding his dislocated arm. “How long do we have?”

“I’m not sure. Our comms disconnected as soon as we got in here, an EMP of some kind I’m guessing. But based on the shaking? I’d say not very long.”

As if on cue, an explosion ripped through the floor above them as they reached the bottom of the stairs and they burst through the doors in a frenzy, another hallway greeting them. But then the ceiling above them started to crumble and cave in, and chunks of crushing weight were toppling down onto them like an avalanche. 

“ _Go!_ ” Bucky yelled, pushing Steve and Rhodes forward to go faster, Peter, Tony and Natasha hot on their heels.

Peter spotted a heavy slab of concrete falling from the ceiling, headed straight towards Natasha, and without thinking shoved her with the little energy she had left. It did the trick, as she was propelled forward out of the way, missing the mound of bricks that crashed to the floor. But from then the ceiling collapsed completely, Peter and Tony having to throw their bodies backwards to avoid the onslaught of rocks.

Once the loud rumbling had stopped, Peter lifted his head from his curled position on the floor, coughing through the air that was thick with dust. Straight away he realised the mound of concrete had completely cut off him and Mr Stark off from the rest of the group, and they were now trapped in a small space surrounded by wreckage. 

“Mr Stark?” Peter croaked as he sat up, wiping off small rocks and debris from his trousers. It was a miracle he couldn’t detect any more injuries, and he thanked whatever god that might have protected him.

Tony’s head snapped to the side, disorientated for a moment. “Pete?” He said slight alarmed. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, but I think we’re trapped.” Peter staggered to the mountain that was separating him and the other avengers, trying to pull at the debris, to find that it wouldn’t give, and he was only succeeding in slashing up his hands. It must have been thick, too, as he couldn't hear any voices or heart beats like he usually could.

“Well, shit.” Tony commented, moving around the dark space. It was wide enough for him to pace a few steps, but he had to squint through the muggy air to see anything.

“How about you? Any life-threatening injuries?”

“Nope, all good.” Tony said without thought, even though when he bought his hand away from his forehead, it came back coated in blood.

Peter tried to even his breathing, the dust clogging his throat and the darkness reminded him too much of homecoming night. He knew it wasn’t possible, but he couldn’t shake the feeling the walls were getting smaller, and he had to brace his hands against the sides for support. “I really don’t like small spaces, Mr Stark.”

“I know, Bud. It’s okay – the others will get us out in no time. Just got to hang on for a few minutes.”

Peter nodded, closing his eyes so he could try pretending he was anywhere but here. But suddenly a strange feeling washed over him, accompanied by a burning sensation in his head that stood out from the rest of his injuries, a kind of pressure that seemed to keep building.

He grunted, pressing a trembling hand against his forehead. “Something’s wrong.”

Tony looked up from the rock he had been kicking with his shoe. “What? Are you okay?”

Peter would have spoken if he could, but his throat felt like it was closing up, the sharp pain in his head becoming unbearable. The overwhelming urge to lunge overtook him and he stumbled to the left, fighting against the movements his body wanted to make. And it wasn’t like his Spidey-sense, those instincts felt natural and smooth, this felt very _very_ wrong.

“Peter? Talk to me, Kid.”

His concentration broke for a moment, a millisecond at most, when pushing back became too much, and before he knew it his fist was swinging forward and crashing against the side of Tony’s face. Peter gasped and staggered away, staring at his hands like they weren’t his own.

Tony had chocked on his breath as his face snapped to the side, immediate pain blossoming across his left cheek. His first instinct was to protect the kid from his attacker, but as he looked up, seeing the haunted expression on Peter’s face and the blood on his knuckles, he realised that _Peter_ was his attacker.

He was too stunned to say anything at first, but then Peter let out a low groan and sunk to the floor, his hands clutching at his head so tightly his fingers had gone white. And then the realisation hit him at once, because he looked exactly the same as when Steve was attacking Peter, he had the same pained look in his eyes. They had seen him being injected with the fluid, they should have expected this.

Tony stretched out a hesitant hand, making sure to not make any sudden movement. “Hey, kid. You can fight this. I know you can.”

Peter shook his head violently. “I don’t – I can’t, I – it hurts, Mr Stark.” Peter pleaded; his jaw clenched and teeth grinding together. “I can’t control it.”

His words morphed into a strained scream. It was taking everything in him not to give in, submit to the burning that had now stretched to every muscle, every fibre of his being. It was worse than anything he had ever felt, unrelenting. And he knew if he did give in, he could kill Tony in seconds. He also knew that was exactly what they wanted.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” Tony said gently, his voice full of love and understanding. He feared dying, sure, but he was much more terrified of Peter being the one to do it. It would destroy him.

Something within Peter broke, a tiny crack that unleashed the demon within and he was moving, precise and calculated, his eyes glazed over with an emptiness that didn’t look right on his face. Tony tried to move away but it was no use and before he knew it, Peter’s foot was colliding with his abdomen and he was thrown back into the wall. 

He scrambled away to the side till his back hit another chunk of concrete, and somehow managed to throw his head out of the way of another incoming punch. Peter's fist hit the wall where his face had been moments ago, not even grunting when his knuckle must have cracked from the force, he pulled his arm back like nothing had happened, if anything more angry than before. Tony had to remind himself that this wasn't the Peter he knew, he was just a puppet being controlled by his puppet-master, and it wasn't that hard when his eyes didn't look like the ones he had come to love.

Tony was fast from his years of training, but Peter was faster, there was no doubt about it. The space was too small, there was no where to run or hide, so he just had to close his eyes and shield his body as Peter lifted him up by the neck.

Tony wheezed and gagged, grunting as he was shoved back into the wall, so hard what was left of the building shook. _Come on, Avengers. Get your asses in here, now._ , Tony thought desperately. His head smacked against the cold surface as he was brutally rammed back again, not being able to conceal his cry of pain as something in his chest cracked and stars burst across his vision all at the same time. At some point Peter had ripped a rusted, metal pipe off the wall and was preparing to strike Tony with it. Tony panicked and tried to kick out but it was fruitless, he was no match for an enhanced.

Peter’s expression was indifferent, but Tony knew he was screaming behind it. He tried to tell with his eyes that it wasn’t his fault, that he forgave him, that everything would be okay because he knew this was it, the end, his life coming to an abrupt stop. But then suddenly a flicker of recognition glinted in Peter’s eyes, and he dropped Tony quickly, scrambling away from him, once again gritting his teeth against the searing sensation that was consuming him.

Tony couldn’t stand back up, the thought making him dizzy as he his body went limp against his will, and looked at Peter.

Tears were streaming down the boy’s face, and he had been gripping the pipe so tightly the metal was denting. Peter stared at Tony, fighting every urge that told him to _kill_.

Everything seemed to go quiet and still as Peter spoke, his voice small. “ _Mr Stark_.”

“It’s okay. This isn’t your fault.” Tony had accepted his fate. He could tell by the way Peter’s body was shaking that he wouldn’t be able to keep going for much longer. “You’re okay.”

“I don’t think I can hold it back.” He whispered, his voice cracking as more tears ran down his pale cheeks. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have too anymore.” Tony just wanted his pain to stop. “I love you, Kid. It’s okay.”

“But I – _I don’t want you to go._ ” 

“I know, Pete. But I’ll always be with you. Just let go.”

Slowly, Peter looked down to the rusted pipe in his hands. He could feel his control slipping away. But it was then, as everything seemed to be crashing down around him, he realised he couldn’t let them win, because this was what they wanted. He had worked too damn hard for a happy life to let them take Tony away from him, and he was too damn stubborn to let go now.

So, with one final breath, Peter squeezed his eyes shut, raised the metal pipe, and with everything he had left, plunged it into his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I keep emotionally destroying all my readers, so... sorry?
> 
> Hope you enjoyed anyway! See you next Sunday (or possibly before) :))


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An early chapter because i felt bad about the cliff hanger from last chapter :))
> 
> note: i am in no way a medical professional, nor am i that great at biology, so sorry if I'm super inaccurate in this chapter. do correct me if you notice anything.

Tony knew fear like the back of his hand.

Had felt it deep in his chest, the way it creeps up your spine like spiders with legs of ice. And fear was many things to Tony.

The feeling of blissful weightlessness, as he floated through space on the other side of that wormhole, waiting for his inevitable death. Pepper’s fingers as they slipped from his, her eyes full of fear as she descended into the sea of fire. Rhodes falling, followed by the thump of his unresponsive body hitting the ground.

Tony knew fear. It was ugly, and overwhelming, and evil, yet strangely familiar. And Tony thought - _naively_ thought, that the world couldn’t throw anything at him that was worse than that terror he knew, that feeling of pure and utter hopelessness. He was wrong.

He could do nothing but scrape fruitlessly at the floor as Peter raised the rusted pipe, a new look of determination in his eyes.

A strangled “ _No!_ ” escaped him, everything in him screaming to do something, do anything to stop it.

But there was nothing he could do, because Peter had made his mind, and his eyes were already squeezed shut, and his hands were bringing the pipe down with every ounce of strength he had left in him, and Tony didn’t want to watch but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

The sound of the pipe passing through Peter’s abdomen would haunt him for years. Peter’s mouth was open in a silent scream as he felt to his knees, his hands still gripping the pipe that had skewered his stomach. 

Strangely, a feeling of relief washed over Peter. The control that had been holding him in a vice grip, burning in his veins finally ceased, and for a moment, he felt no pain. Peter had stopped it and Tony wouldn’t die, which was all he could ask for. But slowly, his mind cleared, and the euphoric numbness was starting to be replaced with a hard pressure. 

He was scared to look down. The hand that was still holding tight onto the metal, slowly being coated with warm, sticky blood was enough proof he hadn’t dreamt what he just did. But curiosity got the better of him, and his eyes wondered down, his breath hitching when he saw the pipe protruding from his stomach in a mess of red gore.

The pain slammed into him at once and he cried out, hunching over slightly, and slumping further to the ground, the overwhelming agony making him want to kick and thrash even though he couldn’t seem to move a muscle.

“- eter! Oh god, oh _god_ ” Tony was yelling at him, but it sounded distant and muffled, the pounding in his ears too loud.

Spurred out of his frozen shock, Tony was scrambling across the floor to his Kid, barely feeling the pain of his injuries compared to the terror in his chest. He managed to catch Peter’s back before he could collapse backwards, positioning him so he half lay on his lap. 

Words felt clogged in Tony’s throat, as he stared down at Peter, whose eyes were wide with pain, tears streaming down his face. 

_Think logically_ , Tony practically screamed at himself. Stop the bleeding. Remove the pipe? No, even he knew you should never do that, and right now it looked like the only thing keeping Peter’s organ from spilling out.

“Mr S-Stark.” Peter cried weakly. He had never felt pain like this.

Tony felt his own tears running down his cheeks as he clutched onto Peter’s limp body a little tighter. He teared his eyes away from the blood and the pipe, focusing on Peter’s face instead. But somehow that was even worse because he suddenly looked so young, and the image of the life slowly draining from the boy’s eyes didn’t sit right with him, like a feverish dream that couldn’t be real.

“You’re okay. You’re fine, y-you’re _fine_ , okay?” Tony croaked. 

Peter coughed, blood staining his lips. “Tell May – “

“No, Kid, you can tell her yourself. You’re going to be fine. This, this is nothing we can’t f-fix – “

“ _Tell May_ , please.” Peter’s voice was barely a whisper, but he had to make sure Tony knew.

Tony nodded, empty lies dying in his throat. Peter didn’t have to finish because he knew what he meant. _Tell May I love her._

Peter groaned again, his body twisting as he writhed on the floor. His hand shot up and grasped onto Tony’s, finding comfort in knowing the man was with him. He knew he was dying.

He was so scared. He didn’t want to go yet. But that’s the thing with life, you don’t choose when it ends.

“H-hey, look at me.” Tony gently lifted Peter’s chin and wiped away the wetness from his cheeks, his fingers then moving to his hair in any hope to make him feel a little more peaceful. “We’ll be home soon.”

“Yeah?” Peter looked calmer when he said that, because even though he knew it was a lie, it was easier to pretend.

“Y-yeah, and uh, I’m gonna’ finally teach you how to drive, and we’ll set up a nice room for you at the tower so you don’t have to keep sleeping on the couch.” Tony sniffed. His voice was becoming more broken and wet as he spoke, but he couldn’t seem to stop because suddenly Peter didn’t look so scared. “And I'll finally hold up my end of that stupid deal, and walk around in front of the Avengers in those Spider-Man pyjamas.”

A hint of a smile graced Peter’s lips, and his face relaxed like it wasn’t in so much pain for a moment.

“And you’ll probably laugh so hard that apple juice squirts out your nose like that one time in the lab, and you’ll finally introduce me to your girlfriend, and ill make some inappropriate joke that you’ll yell at me for later, but you won’t really be mad because secretly you found it funny too and – “

“Thank you.” _For being there. For loving me. For everything._

Tony smiled despite the tears streaming down his face and the grief that was already taking root in his gut. 

They had stayed like that for a long time. It could have been minutes or hours, time seemed to become unimportant as he waited for Peter to slip away. He didn’t stop talking, whether it was about the future, or their best memories or just about nothing and everything at the same time. 

Peter had stopped responding. He went through a cycle of writhing on the floor, twitching in pain, to dropping unconscious for a few minutes, every time Tony not being able to get a breath in, like panic was holding onto his lungs. Every time he would shake him till Peter finally blinked his eyes open, and the haze of pain returned.

Maybe it was selfish, to prolong his suffering when they both knew he didn’t have long left, but this was grief after all, and denial was dictating his movements. He couldn’t let him go. He wouldn’t.

And then after a while even Tony had gone silent. Not because he had run out of things to say, but because he couldn’t seem to keep lying, pretending like they were both going back home. Peter was somehow still lucid, no doubt thanks to his healing factor. But even that would give out eventually.

When Tony first heard it, he thought he imagined it. He thought he had been driven mad and wasn’t surprised by the disturbing thought. His brain must have been creating an alternative reality where he makes it out, because it didn’t know how to process the real one.

But then he heard it again, and it sounded so real. It was crumbling and muffled voices coming from the other side of the mound of debris. Rocks and rubble fell away, and a beam of light filtered through a small crack, making their dark space a little less dim. He held his breath, not wanting to have false hope, as more rocks fell away and were moved to the side until he could see hands reaching in.

He sat on the floor, Peter still lying on his lap, firmly in his grasp as finally, _finally _the Avengers moved away the rubble. Better late than never, right?__

__A silver suit crouched and shifted through the small opening, freezing when the robotic eyes of the faceplate landed on the wrecked pair._ _

__“Tony!” Pepper yelled in a mixture of relief and horror, as she looked at the limp Peter in her husband’s arms and the pole jutting out from his bare stomach._ _

__Tony was overcome with emotions, all fighting each other for attention. “Pepper! You gotta’ help him, please, get him out of here! I don’t think he has long, I-I don’t, oh god, please, get him out!”_ _

__Pepper tried to remain calm, as she sent a quick distress signal to the rest of the team, and shuffled forward to Tony, who was hysterical. It was unnerving, seeing him like this. “It’s okay, I’ve got him.”_ _

__Tony relaxed his hold on the boy slightly, just enough for Pepper to gently lift the bloodied Peter into her arms. She faltered when Peter let out a detached scream at the movement and she tried not to jostle the pipe, supressing a gag when she realised it was jutting out the other side._ _

__Rhodes placed a hand over his mouth when Pepper emerged from the opening, while Clint cursed under his breath and cast his eyes away, Peter reminding him of his children too much._ _

__“Help get Tony out.” Pepper ordered, her voice clipped and thick with emotion._ _

__Rhodes struggled out of the gap with a limping Tony on his side. He had insisted on walking himself, even though Rhodes had to take practically all his weight._ _

__“What happened?” Clint breathed as they started to make their way down the hallway, stepping over mounds of debris and fallen lights. They had managed to take out most of the guards, and the ones they didn’t had escaped on a few choppers, but they could worry about that later._ _

__Tony didn’t know where to begin, so he skipped over the question. “Where are the others? Everyone okay?”_ _

__Rhodes huffed a breath. “Steve and Bucky went batshit crazy and tried to kill us, but luckily we outnumbered them and managed to knock em’ out, but Natasha did get a nasty break in her wrist. We tied em’ up in the Quintjet and left to find you guys, but that was about an hour ago. You have any idea what that was about?”_ _

__“They, uh, injected them with something, makes them lose control. Same thing happened to Pete.”_ _

__Neither Clint or Rhodes asked any follow up questions, and for that he was grateful. Peter could still die before they made it and everything was still so overwhelming – he was pretty sure he was running entirely on fumes._ _

__“How long?” Tony grunted. He had to know._ _

__“Just now or in general?”_ _

__“Both.”_ _

__“Just now, it was few hours till we found you. Our scanners couldn’t get through the rubble. As for in general? Five days.”_ _

__Tony blanched. “Five days? What? I-I thought it was only like three…”_ _

__“I’m sorry we took so long, man.”_ _

__Tony didn’t respond, gritting his teeth and tried to move faster._ _

__Peter was groaning in Pepper’s arms, his head thrashing back and forth, but he was still conscious which according to Clint was a good sign._ _

__Finally, they reached a large metal door, and Clint rammed his shoulder against it, the door swinging open. The fresh air that hit Tony was like nothing he had ever felt, the wind against his skin and the warm sun on his face was heavenly, but with a dying Peter a meter away from him, it was hard to enjoy it. He winced against the brightness, squinting to see the array of trees that surrounded him._ _

__It appeared this base was deep in the forest, hidden from the rest of the world. When he turned back around, he gulped taking in the sight of the enormous building that they had come from but quickly shook away the feeling of unease, spotting the Quintjet close by._ _

__As they got closer, they could hear yelling – angry and desperate. It was Bucky._ _

__“ - you gotta’ let us out! We can help find them – yeah, I know, I know but you don’t understand, we – “_ _

__Clint quickly ran up the ramp, swinging his arms across a table that was laying in the centre of Quintjet, usually used for debriefs. Everything on it scattered to the floor as Bucky finally stopped yelling._ _

__“Where are they? What happened?” Steve said urgently._ _

__Both Steve and Bucky had been retrained to the walls of the Quintjet with a few Vibranium cuffs Natasha had managed to grab on her way out. They had to be careful, they didn’t know why Steve and Bucky had suddenly turned murderous, only that they weren’t in their right mind, and they couldn’t afford it to happen again. The super soldiers had been knocked unconscious with a dozen tranquilizer darts, but woken up only thirty minutes later, disorientated, and anxious._ _

__Rhodes, Clint and Pepper had left shortly after to find Peter and Tony, while Natasha watched Steve and Bucky. They understood why they couldn’t be let free, who knew how many time the serum in their veins could be activated, but that didn’t mean Bucky liked having to wait around, while Peter and Tony could have been dying._ _

__“Get him on the table!” Clint yelled, just as Pepper rounded the corner, her metal boots clunking up the ramp._ _

__Bucky strained against his cuffs, trying to see what was happening. “What’s going on?”_ _

__Natasha had moved forward, noticing the bleeding boy in Pepper’s arms. “Holy shit.” She whispered under her breath, her usually contained emotions spilling out for a moment_ _

__Pepper gently laid Peter out on the cleared metal table, finally giving Bucky and Steve a clear view of Peter._ _

__They both couldn’t help but gasp, their eyes fixed on the metal pipe emerging from Peter stomach, hearing his pained whimpers and sloppy movements. Rhodes appeared a few seconds later, a bloodied and bruised Tony leaning on his side._ _

__“We need to get him to Bruce!” Natasha yelled over the frantic noise of rushed footsteps and jumbled orders, everyone panicked._ _

__“What the hell happened?”_ _

__“We need to move now!”_ _

__“Get Helen Cho on the phone!”_ _

__“Someone talk to me! Is he going to be okay?”_ _

__“Tony, you need to calm down.”_ _

__“Where’s the anaesthesia?”_ _

__It was chaos. Everything moved in a blur. One moment, everyone was shouting and the engine was roaring to life and Peter was writing on the table, and the next moment the atmosphere was heavy with unsaid words and questions._ _

__Steve and Bucky were still restrained to the sides, even they agreed they couldn’t risk it in such a small space, hundreds of feet above the ground. Clint explained to them how they had been in Michigan and taken by an organisation that worked for Hydra._ _

__Natasha had started to tend to Steve’s wounds, her own bandaged wrist throbbing, but Bucky was mostly unharmed, other than the sever malnourishment, dehydration and the gunshot wound in his leg that didn’t seem too serious. Bruce had ordered them not to try treat Peter’s wounds as they could easily make things worse, just keep him stable. It was a waiting game now._ _

__Tony was sat by Peter’s side, his whole-body trembling with a mixture of exhaustion and fear. For a moment, everything went deathly silent and at first Tony didn’t realise, but then he remembered the reason it was so silent was because he couldn’t hear Peter's constant string of whimpers and moans._ _

__His head snapped up, searching Peter’s pale face and seeing his eyes had slipped shut, and the grip on his hand was loosening._ _

__“Peter. No, Peter! Wake up, come on.” Tony demanded. It got the attention of the others who moved towards the pair instinctively, the tension in the air thick. “Kid!” Tony gave his shoulders a harsh shake, and slumped in relief when Peter’s eyes snapped open, and he gasped._ _

__The blood loss was making Peter disorientated and his head whipped around, looking for something to ground him. The pain was back and he let out a sob, automatically looking at the source of it without being able to stop himself. He saw the rusted pipe, now covered in blood, still protruding from his stomach and it was like a fuse in his brain blew, and his panic went into overdrive._ _

__His breath was picking up even though each one was an agonised wheeze, and suddenly Peter couldn’t take it anymore, he felt like he was suffocating, drowning._ _

__“Get it out, please! Get it out!” Peter spluttered and gasped, desperation leaking into his voice._ _

__“Kid, we can’t – “_ _

__“Please, j-just, get it out – I can’t, I don’t - _please_ ” A small voice in the back of his head was telling him he was hysterical and that they were right, but in the moment that voice was being pushed further back till he could barely here it, the only thing registering was that he wanted it _out_. “Get it out, get it out! I can’t take it anymore - _Tony_ please! It-it hurts, I don’t – just get it o-out!”_ _

__He was sobbing, his hands balled into fists at his side. Why wouldn’t they take it out? Couldn’t they see he couldn’t take it anymore?_ _

__Tony didn’t know what to do, _no one_ knew what to do. They tried to talk to him, calm him down a little, but Peter was now delirious, and nothing seemed to get past the wall of pain keeping him hostage. Slowly, his cries grew quieter, back to the small whimpers they had been before and the Quintjet arrived, easing its way onto the landing pad at the top of the tower._ _

__Helen Cho and Bruce were already there, medical supplies and a gurney by their side. They rushed in as soon as it landed, focusing solely on Peter who was running out of time. They wheeled him to the medical wing, hooking machines and tubes into him, and shouting orders to the medical team._ _

__Peter’s eyes were half-lidded as he tried his best to stay awake. But all the lights were so bright, and the noises were so loud, drifting off seemed like the more appealing option. Everything felt like too much yet too far away at the same time, but part of him knew Tony was gone, and he was terrified._ _

__Pepper had to physically drag Tony away from the operating theatre, pulling him into the med bay a few rooms down. Thanks to her training in medicine, she knew how to treat Tony’s wounds, and started by peeling off his blood-soaked shirt. Tony was silent, and she thought he may have disassociated, but for the time being she decided to focus on his injuries while keeping up a constant stream of words, so if he could hear her, he would feel a little safer._ _

__***_ _

__Natasha was feeling a little overwhelmed. So, she couldn’t imagine the day Bucky and Steve were having._ _

__She had left them restrained to the walls of the Quintjet while she scoped out some of Steve’s special sedatives, strong enough to knock down an elephant, and grabbed a large handful off the shelf. If they were controlled again, it would be easy to take them down safely without them causing any more destruction. Her wrist ached fiercely at the thought, and she gulped down a few pain killers before making her way back to the ship._ _

__She was trying to stay indifferent and logical like she always did in tough situations, but with Peter dying and the others emotionally destroyed, it was proving to be a challenge. She could already tell they would be reluctant about talking about what happened and there was no use trying when they were in such a state of shock, so she decided she wouldn’t pry until the next morning, when they were rested and a little more healed._ _

__The team had faced challenges in their time together, dealt with enough trauma for a hundred lifetimes. But something told her this time was different – she had never seen Steve look so distraught, and Bucky had been switching between remaining silent to yelling with rage._ _

__She jogged up the ramp, the keys for the Vibranium cuffs and sedatives in hand. They looked dead on their feet, sweat sliding down their face and their battered clothes bloody. Not many people were around, all rushing to help Peter, so she had offered to sort them out on her own._ _

__“What’s happening? Is Peter okay?” Bucky asked as soon as she came in to view._ _

__Natasha didn’t look at him as she unlocked their cuffs. “He is in surgery. I don’t know if he’ll be okay.”_ _

__Bucky cursed under his breath and rubbed at his raw wrists once he was free, leaning against the wall so he didn’t collapse forward._ _

__“You both okay to walk?” Natasha looked between the swaying pair, suddenly unsure if she could look after both on her own._ _

__Bucky nodded wearily and slipped an arm under Steve’s, helping him limp along. Natasha joined on the other side, her fingers twitching over the sedatives._ _

__“So, anything interesting happen while we were gone?” Steve said, a pathetic attempt at small talk to avoid having to recount their past days in hell._ _

__Natasha gave him a pointed look. “It’s okay if you’re mad.”_ _

__“What?”_ _

__“At us. We tried our best, but we still took too long.”_ _

Steve blew out a long breath. Was he mad? Well, _yes_ \- but he couldn’t tell if it was at them, or at the people that took them, or just the world for being so unfair. He knew deep down he didn’t blame them, but after the week they had, sorting out and understanding his emotions was difficult. 

__Steve looked at Natasha and immediately saw the guilt behind her eyes, the way she looked at him with so much regret and anger at herself._ _

__“I’m not mad.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See ya'll on Sunday! ;)


	9. Chapter 9

Natasha stood facing the wall, a clean fluffy towel in hand, as she waited for Steve to finish his much-needed shower. Though he and Bucky had protested at first, Natasha had insisted on staying in the room with them, more than a little worried they might keel over at any moment or have an emotional break down.

They had reluctantly agreed, Bucky going first and being as quick as possible. Steve grimaced as the hot water hit his back, the water pummelling onto his bruises and watched the blood and grime wash down the drain, as if in a trance. He cradled his shoulder, still dislocated from his fight with Peter. After lazily scrubbing a dollop of shampoo into his hair, he looked over to Natasha who was facing away from him for privacy, her shoulders rigid.

“I’m done.” He rasped.

Natasha held the towel out to him, so he didn’t have to move too much, and turned around to face him once he was all covered up. “Your shoulder.” She commented, only noticing its deformed shape now. “It’s dislocated.”

“Yep. Pop it back in for me?”

“I don’t think I should – “

Steve sighed. “Oh, come on. I know you know how to do it, and I think everyone else is a little preoccupied right now.”

Natasha gave in, placing her steady hands on his shoulder and left arm, her gaze calculated.

Steve sucked in a breath at the touch. “Okay, do it on thre - _agh!_ ”

Natasha has snapped it back into its socket in one fluid motion, smirking at the look of betrayal he gave her. She gently helped him into some comfy clothes she had picked out – a white cotton T-shirt and a pair of oversized sweatpants, and then led him down the hall to the kitchen area.

It was dark outside, late evening he guessed, and the lights above the counter were dim and warm. Bucky was already there, sat at the island and pushing his soup around with a spoon, staring at it. He flinched slightly when they came in but gave a tight smile at seeing Steve looking clean, and a lot better than he did before.

Steve slid into a seat beside him and watched as Natasha placed another bowl of soup into the microwave. She passed them each a small shot glass full of various pills.

“Eat.” Natasha said, in that no-nonsense tone that told them they didn’t have a choice. “Bruce developed them – basically vitamins and nutrients for super soldiers.”

Bucky and Steve stole a glance at each other, before popping each pill into their mouth, swallowing them with a mouthful of water. The microwave pinged, and Natasha slid another bowl of warm chicken soup over to Steve and sat across from the two.

Steve lifted the spoon to his mouth and let the warm liquid slip down his throat, his stomach grumbling a little less. He tried to go slow, remembering if he ate too much after being practically starved, he would throw up. None of them said anything for a long time, looking between their soup or casting quick glances to each other.

Steve had thought it would be more relieving being home. Why did he feel so numb?

Maybe it was because Peter was still in surgery, had been for an hour now. They still didn’t know if he would make it. 

The tower felt emptier that usual. It was quiet, void of other Avengers who were usually wondering around the top floor, bickering, and laughing at one another. He knew why, everyone was a floor below at the medical wing, doing everything they could to help.

“I know you wanna’ ask what happened.” Bucky stated, looking at Natasha.

She avoided his gaze. “I’m curious, yes, but you don’t have to talk yet if you don’t want to.”

It went silent again, but not in an uncomfortable way. Exhaustion lay heavy in the air. Only the sound of spoons scraping against bowls to be heard.

That was until the scream. _Peter’s_ scream. Both Steve and Bucky knew it was his straight away, having heard that awful sound too many times in the past few days. The sound was raw and full of agony, echoing through the walls of the tower. 

Natasha froze, also knowing who it belonged to, and for a moment the three just looked at each other, dread etched onto their faces, but staying deathly still. He must have woken up in surgery.

“ _Please – no! Don’t –_ ” Though the sound was distant, they could all hear it clear as day, echoing through the empty floor. Peter’s words bled into a drawn-out wail, until finally it had stopped, and the three descended back into that same quiet. It was no longer comfortable.

All were too sickened to say or do anything other than stare lifelessly at the marble table in front of them. 

To Steve, the screaming sounded too much like that time he was trapped in his cell, pushing Peter up against the wall till his collarbone crunched beneath his arms, the way his body wasn’t responding when he screamed inside to just _stop_. Because he had done that, he had nearly killed Peter, broken his bones, all because he wasn’t strong enough to resist it.

Steve had pushed his bowl across the table and started running before he even registered his muscles moving, and then suddenly he was retching into the toilet, his hands braced against the wall. His stomach convulsed painfully, his ribs screaming at him, till he had emptied his soup and supplements into the toilet water and was panting heavily.

Natasha appeared at the doorway only a moment later, her expression guarding the worry she felt for him in a way she had mastered a long time ago. She didn’t go to him, understanding he needed his space, and instead made her way to the sink, turning the tap on.

She held her hands under the running water, and let it fill the sink when it turned a relaxing warm temperature, squeezing a few squirts of soap into the bowl.

Steve flushed the toilet and wiped his mouth, before looing up to Natasha. “I must have eaten too quickly.”

They both knew he was lying, but Natasha decided not to mention it. “I want to check over your injuries before you go to bed. Make sure you aren’t going to die in the night.”

Steve huffed a laugh. It felt forced. “Is Bucky okay?”

“No.” Natasha answered without a moments thought. “But he will be. And so will you.”

Steve didn’t know if he believed her, but it was nice to hear from someone that always sounded so sure of themselves. Besides, Natasha was always right, somehow, she always knew what to do even in the worst situations, so Steve suppressed those pessimistic thoughts, and decided to trust her.

***

Natasha wondered if this was what having kids felt like. Two big, hundred-and-something-year-old kids.

She didn’t treat them like kids, because that was sure to start some tantrums, but as she pottered around the tower, doing everything she could to get them comfortable and ready for bed, she realised how much they needed this - to be cared for.

She had put water by their nightstands, blankets over their beds, set the thermostat to a comfortable temperature, and waited till each of them were secure in their bed, dozing off, before she even thought about leaving.

Steve was first, asleep in seconds after Natasha had dressed any wounds and practically forced the pain medication down his throat. She was now standing in the doorway of Bucky’s room, watching him while he took small sips from his water.

“You don’t have to stay here. I’m not a child.” Bucky said after a while, not turning to look at her.

“I know.” Natasha replied but didn’t show any sign of moving.

Bucky turned to face her, slightly frustrated when she didn’t leave. “You better wake me when Peter’s out of surgery.” Natasha looked at him with a studying expression, the kind she often gave where you couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “I’m serious. Wake me.”

Finally, she nodded, and Bucky climbed into his bed, pulling the soft covers over his body, and immediately melting into the warmth.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.” She said after a few minutes. “You, of all people, deserved a beak.”

Bucky said nothing, turning over in his bed so his back was facing her. He squeezed his eyes shut like if he tried hard enough, he could fall asleep right that second, and not have to deal with any of these feelings he couldn’t comprehend.

He wasn’t sure he agreed with her there, as if Peter or Steve or, hell, even Tony deserved it more than him. Sure, he had been through the whole ‘kidnapped’ fiasco before and this wasn’t exactly helping his progress, but that didn’t mean he was more deserving off happiness than the others. He knew Natasha didn’t mean it like that, but it still rubbed him the wrong way because every time he thought about it, he thought about Peter in that room across from them, screaming and begging and crying. Peter, a child, who was better than all of them.

“I’ll see you in a bit.” Natasha said eventually, closing the door slightly so a crack of light still streamed along the floor, and she left without another word.

The room felt even more suffocatingly lonely than before and, for a moment, Bucky wished she hadn’t left, even considered calling after her. She knew she would stay with him, wouldn’t judge him for a second. But he was a grown-ass adult and wasn’t about to start getting emotional with anyone that wasn’t the voice in his head.

Bucky hadn’t realised how tired he really was till he was drifting off, the last few days seeming to weigh down on him like heavy chainmail. He wanted to stay awake in the hope he could hear some news about Peter but even that was seeming like an impossible task.

Before he knew it, he was deep asleep, trapped in the confines of his own head and battling the nightmares that bled into his dreams like a virus - a cruel, twisted virus.

***

Natasha floated through the halls, a little unsure of what to do with herself. Sleeping wasn’t an option; her brain was too wired to sit still.

Peter had been taken out of surgery two hours ago, much to the relief of everyone. It had been touch and go for a while, with Peter technically ‘dying’ on the operating table for seven minutes, and waking up twice because his metabolism burned through the anaesthesia too quickly.

The screaming had been from when they removed the pipe. Natasha hoped he didn’t remember that when we woke up. She didn’t entertain the thought that he might not wake up, because that wasn’t an option.

She hadn’t woken Steve and Bucky up like she had promised and didn’t feel bad about it because they needed their sleep whether they wanted it or not. Tony had finally conked out after finding out Peter had made it out of surgery, knowing it would be a while till he woke up anyway.

It was the early hours of the morning now, and after checking in on both Bucky and Steve to make sure they were still both asleep, rather than chocking on their own vomit or suffocating from a panic attack, she poured herself her third – no, _fourth_ , cup of coffee. The liquid was steaming and bitter, but the way it warmed her chest calmed her a little.

Sam appeared a few minutes later, pouring himself his own cup and sitting opposite her at the table. He had deep circles under his eyes, they all had, from the constant searching the last few days, and worry lines were still carved onto his face. They drank in silence for a little while, until Sam cleared his throat.

“I knew it would be bad, but…” Sam trailed off, not sure how to put the sheer trauma into words.

Natasha nodded; she knew what he meant. “How’s Peter? Any change?”

“Not yet.” Sam shook his head. “God, the stuff they did to him – he’s just a child.”

“-and Spider-Man.”

Sam’s head snapped up to look at her, but Natasha’s eyes were still rooted to her cup, staring at the dark liquid. “From the airport?”

“Yep.” She said, popping the ’p’.

“Jesus.” Sam muttered under his breath. “I guess that explains a lot. I was starting to think he was some long-lost child of Tony’s from his playboy years.”

She huffed a laugh.

“You should get some sleep.”

“So should you.”

Sam matched the look she sent him. They both knew they weren’t going to sleep. Not yet anyway.

The sound of a glass shattering from down the hall had Natasha rubbing her temples. “I better go deal with that.” She said to Sam, who nodded his head as she left.

She knocked on Steve’s door gently. When she got no response, she edged the door open, peering into the dark room.

The covers were strewn messily across the bed, and the glass of water that she had set down on his nightstand was smashed to pieces on the floor, water soaking the wall by it. She heard the tap running from the en-suite bathroom, so she pushed open the door slowly to see Steve gripping the sides of the sink, his face soaked in water as he breathed heavily.

He cast a glance at her and sighed. “I knocked the glass over – sorry, it was just an accident.”

“Steve…”

“I’ll clean it up.” He snapped, his harsh tone feeling strange when directed at Natasha. “Please, go.”

Natasha took a careful step forward. “It’s okay, it’s just a glass.”

“It’s not okay.” He said, the fight leaving him.

“Let’s get back to bed, okay?” Natasha could see the way he was shaking, pulling his fingers through sweaty hair. “I’ll get you some more water.”

“No, just - stop! Stop taking care of me.” His voice cracked and he had to turn away from her, shame making his cheeks warm.

“I’m not going to do that, Steve.”

Something within him snapped. “You don’t know what I did! What they made me _do_. I – they, I h-hurt him, I – “

Natasha didn’t know what to do, emotions not really being her thing. But before she could even start to think about something to respond to that, FRIDAY’s voice interrupted them.

“Boss has an important message for both of you, Mr Rogers and Miss Romanoff.”

Steve’s eyebrows drew together, and he looked at Natasha who shrugged, both terrified and curious.

“What is it, Fri?” Natasha said.

“Boss wanted me to inform you that the doctors are positive Mr Parker will make a full recovery, and he is now stable.”

All of the tension Steve had been carrying the last few days vanished in an instant, the relief so intense he wanted to jump and cry at the same time. He looked to Natasha, who was in a similar state of relief, her shoulder sagging.

For a moment they just looked at each other, stunned and overjoyed, till Steve crossed the small distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, encasing her in a powerful hug. Natasha accepted it, despite her not being a hug-person, because she knew Steve was.

She huffed out a slightly hysterical laugh, and Steve joined her, laughing into her shoulder. She would never admit it out loud, but it felt good – being held by someone. It was strangely comforting, something she wasn’t all that familiar with.

He pulled away from her, his face lit up with a new glint of hope. “Let’s go tell Bucky.”

***

It was harder to see Peter than he thought it would be.

Tony was frozen in the doorway, staring at the countless tubes, machines, and scary things in general that ran in and out of the Kid’s body. He had thought he would look better now that all the blood was gone, and he was actually wearing clothes, tucked into a warm bed.

But he looked sick. The bruises on his face were standing out more than before, he looked to skinny to be the same muscly boy he was, and is eyes were closed – like he was dead. A corpse. 

Tony shook that thought away, because the doctors had said that Peter was going to make it, presuming there were no organ failures, or infections or any complications along the way. At least he looked at peace now. Last time he saw Peter was when he woke up in surgery, just as they were pulling the pipe out, disorientated, distressed and in a lot of pain. He had banged on the windows of the door of the operating theatre, watching as Peter thrashed and cried on the table.

They had denied him access and looking back on it he understood why – a reckless parent in the surgery room was not what surgeons needed when they had to operate. But that didn’t stop them from getting an earful. Pepper had to physically drag him away, suite and all, till he relented and fell asleep.

May was by his side, clutching onto his lifeless hands and quietly crying. She hadn’t noticed Tony yet, standing in the doorway like a creep, and he felt guilty intruding on this moment between them. Guilty because the reason he had nearly died – had died, for seven minutes – was because he wasn’t strong enough to stop the kidnapping, the torture, the impalement. And guilty because Peter wasn’t his son like he was May’s. What right did he have to be here?

Tony had made up his mind and was turning away but the floor beneath him creaked, May spinning around from her spot next to Peter. There was an awkward moment where they locked eyes and said nothing, both having not seen each other before this.

“God, I’m so sorry, May.” Tony broke the silence.

May shook her head adamantly, wiping away a few tears from her cheek. “No, Tony. I know you. This is isn’t your fault. Any of it.”

Tony hadn’t been expecting that. He leaned against the doorframe. “How can you say that? Look at him.”

“I am so angry and _sad_ that this happened to him, but I don’t blame you. I know you love him – but listen here, Tony, don’t you dare leave him like you did before. He needs you if he is going to get through this.”

Tony nodded and dragged a hand down his face. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. Would Peter be better off he distanced himself? He was the reason he got kidnapped in the first place, after all. But hearing May made him realise he couldn’t do that, not like when he ignored him after the fight at the airport.

Tony left May soon after that, knowing that she needed some time with him. He climbed back into bed with Pepper and shut his eyes, slipping off into the world of sleep quickly thanks to the heavy pain meds he was on. His body still ached, broken bone and open cuts throbbing, but he welcomed the numbness of the drugs, and finally let his body rest.

Peter would be okay. He would wake up, and he would graduate from high school, and get a nice girlfriend (or boyfriend), and maybe have a few kids, and be _happy_.

Anything else wasn’t an option.

Peter was going to wake up. He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't had much experience with writing Natasha, Steve and Bucky, so I hope this chapter feels in character. I also wanted to capture their trauma which is still very fresh and how they would act after it, as most of this story is centred around Peter, and I won't lie I found it quite difficult. Anyway, hope it was still good.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm trying to respond to all comments, but even if i dont, know that i still appreciate you!
> 
> Have a good week and see you all next sunday!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I sacrificing my very important A-level work to write this instead? Yep, and I don't regret a thing.
> 
> Here's a more fluffy chapter before we hop back on board the angst train. Hope you enjoy!

Peter felt like he was… _floating_.

Everything felt like a dream you can’t quite remember, only images and sounds jumbled together in a sea of thoughts. 

He didn’t remember the first time he woke up, his eyes slowly blinking open and his fingers twitching. There were faces above him, hands touching him but nothing felt real, and then they were gone. Darkness.

He didn’t really remember the second time he woke up either, other than the way he felt safe and warm, because there were familiar people talking to him like he wasn’t dead. So, maybe he wasn’t dead? Before, he had been so sure of it, that he was dead and there was no turning back. He couldn’t understand what they were saying and before he knew it, he was slipping away again, giving into the void.

Peter definitely remembered the third time he woke up. It wasn’t like the other times, gradual and peaceful, it was sharp and painful and everything at once was attacking his senses. He had gasped, his arm flailing about like a flightless bird, trying to breath past the heavy thing he could feel dangling down his throat. The pain in his middle was intense and he was choking on a scream, crying out, begging someone to make everything stop.

He remembered it all, the torture, the loneliness, the pipe in his stomach and suddenly his panic was suffocating, because what if he was back there? He could feel grips on his limbs, holding him down and that confirmed it – he was back there, tired to that chair, helpless to do anything. There was shouting and noise, too much noise, the white lighting blinding him.

Slowly, everything got dim again, quieter, calmer, and his eyes were slipping shut. He tried to fight the exhaustion because he had to know what was happening, but then even that didn’t seem to matter. He was just so tired. So, he fell asleep.

This time, as Peter woke up, he was lucid enough that he wasn’t sent into an instant panic, but still drowsy enough that stringing thoughts together required concentration. He blinked his eyes open, repeating in his head _I’m not there, I’m safe. I’m not there, I’m safe_. He knew he was in the med bay, had been there enough times due to his Spider-Man antiques to recognise the cotton bed sheets and smell of antiseptic. He still had to remind himself though, as his body didn’t want to believe it, still spiked with anxiety in case it was all a big lie and he was still trapped.

He summoned the energy to force his eyes open, blinking against the lights. It was dim, the only light source being a lamp that sat by his bed, illuminating the room with a soft, orange glow. Seeing it was, in fact, the med bay, had his whole body relaxing instantly. And he was more than happy to find that his body didn’t hurt, other than a low ache that had settled across his midsection, but after the pain he had felt the last few days, it was nothing.

Lazily, Peter gazed round the familiar room till his eyes settled on a figure relaxing in a chair, casually reading a book, and sipping a glass of water. 

_Aunt May_

Peter couldn’t stop the tear that slipped down his cheek at the sight of her. In his darkest moment she was all he wanted and being torn apart from her had been hell. It had only been a few days but, _fuck_ , he had missed her so much. Seeing her in the flesh, unharmed and calm was more relieving than he thought possible.

She smelt the same – coffee mixed with lavender from the candles they kept at home. He soaked it up, letting the scent seep into his bones like a drug.

He sniffed quietly, but it was enough to get her attention and her eyes shot up from her book, her whole body leaning forward.

“Peter!” May spluttered, a wide smile spreading onto her lips. “Oh, honey.” She gripped his hands gently, running small circles on his palm.

“M’y.” Peter croaked, the noise barely a whisper. He winced as it aggravated his throat.

“Don’t try to talk, sweetie.” She said before he could open his mouth to try again. “God, I love you so much.”

 _I love you too_ , Peter mouthed back to her, trying to stop the tears that seemed to just keep coming. 

May nodded, wiping her own tears away and laughing wetly.

It was late at night Peter could tell, outside the windows was darkness and he couldn’t hear much from the rest of the tower, so he assumed most were asleep.

May sat and filled him in, his tired brain trying it’s best to keep up, like he was lagging. He had been asleep for eight days she told him, only waking up a few times before. The doctors were confident he was going to make a full recovery, maybe even being granted permission to go out as Spider-Man in a month or two, which made Peter feel miles more hopeful. Everyone was okay, just worried about him. May deliberately left out the part where Tony still had three broken ribs, a fractured arm and bruise marks round his neck, because she knew Peter’s mental state wasn’t ready for that.

She also left out the part about the details and extent of his injuries even though she could tell he wanted to ask and would have if not for his fucked-up throat.

Peter wanted to see Mr Stark. And bucky. And Steve. But his eyes were already slipping shut and his body was going boneless against the covers, so he decided it could wait. He let himself drift off once more, listening to the chatter of his Aunt May, and breathing in the feeling of home.

***

Peter was awake and the threat of him dying from his injuries was gone, so Tony’s blood pressure was finally starting to even out. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t still stressed, he definitely was, with them not knowing if Lilian and Adams had escaped the rescue.

Even though Peter was on the mend physically, everyone was worried about the mental affects of the kidnapping. Tony could already spot the first signs of PTSD, and even though the kid insisted he was fine, just a little jumpy, Tony wasn’t convinced his road to recovery was going to be a walk in the park. 

It had a been one week since he had woken up and talked to May for the first time, three weeks since he had gone missing. Peter was relieved he now woke up less disorientated and able to keep up and engage with conversation but having to rely on drugs to manage the pain was still irritating.

Bruce had taken out Peter’s catheter a few days prior much to his embarrassment, so his only time spent out of bed were the tiresome and tedious trips to the bathroom attached to his room, each one filled with grunts and frustrated comments from Peter. He was tired of being so fragile and exhausted all the time, his need to swing over side scrapers and flip onto walls becoming more prominent than usual.

Everyone in the tower was always instructed to keep two sedatives on their person, just in case, even though Bruce had managed to remove he serum. After studying doses of Steve and Bucky’s blood, he concluded that it was some kind of nanotechnology that had fused with their blood, and when activated by the controller, it latched onto their muscles, keeping them aware but unable to stop it. Bruce had gone on to explain how he removed it, as Peter usually found things like that fascinating, but when it had caused some of his worse memories, he couldn’t find it in him to be interested.

There was always someone by Peter’s bedside, all the Avengers taking turns when May couldn’t be there.

Peter was taking his first shower by his self, which felt like a big step. He had let May, and May only, give him sponge baths as he couldn’t stand the feeling of being dirty, but before this he hadn’t done anything so independent. 

“-and I’ll be right out here, okay Pete. The whole time – unless you want me to go, well actually, I’ll stay out here anyway – just in case, you know? But don’t – “

Peter rolled his eyes as he listened to Tony through the door of the bathroom, the mother hen in him had come out the past few days, making Tony ramble when it came to Peter’s safety.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s fine. Ill be out in a minute.” Peter answered back, dropping his towel onto the floor. His voice was still low and raspy, thanks to the strangulation that had nearly killed him, but it was easier to ignore now.

“You sure you’re good? I can help – I won’t look or – “

“It’s _fine_ , Mr Stark.”

Tony tapped against the door nervously, not liking that Peter was out of reach from him. “Okay, okay. Just yell if you need anything – or FRIDAY, FRIDAY will help you, or – get me if that’s – “

“Okay, I’m getting in now! Please stop talking.” Peter sighed as Tony finally went quiet. He had no doubt he was still right outside the door, probably leaning up against it, but he didn’t mind. It made him feel safe, knowing he was close, but the independence of doing something on his own, even if it was just a shower, felt freeing.

Carefully, Peter stripped out of his clothes, avoiding the mirror, and hobbled over to the shower. He twisted the knob and couldn’t help the fully body flinch that overtook him when the cold water hit his face. It was just like that first night, when they water boarded him, when they forced his head into that bucket of water, when he couldn’t breath and begged them for mercy, when – 

Peter pressed his palms against his eyes, the pressure distracting him from the intruding memory. His breathing evened out as the water temperature increased till it was hot and relaxing, nothing like that icy bucket of water.

He smiled as he stepped in even though the pressure made the welts on his back sting, because he did it, he overcame the panic attack he was about to have. Peter didn’t know what everyone was so worried about – PTSD? Please, he was doing great, he was fine, sometimes even falling back to sleep after he woke up from nightmares. He was good. Peter was all good.

His mind wondered as he stayed under the steaming water, trying not to look down at his bare stomach. Every time he did, he could see the pipe jutting out of him like another limb, and the blood that had coated his legs. He hadn’t even realised he had been standing motionless for a while then, immediately scrubbing some shower gel onto his body and some shampoo in his hair, before stepping out.

The event of showering had him dead on his feet, each injury he thought had already healed aching again, and he was tempted to fall asleep on the mat of the bathroom floor right then, but he also knew that would mean Tony coming in and picking him up in a panic – that would be embarrassing.

Before Peter could wrap the towel around his waist, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He had tried to avoid any reflective surfaces since he woke up, dreading what he knew he must look like. But now he had caught a glimpse he couldn’t help but step back, so he was in full view of himself. Curiosity did kill the cat, after all.

Peter wasn’t sure why he was so upset by what he saw. He had been expecting this, knew he wasn’t going to look the same from before. All the pity looks, and nervous glances made sense now, and he agreed, if he saw someone looking how he did, he would look at them the same.

The bruises and cuts from his face had mostly cleared, but his complexion was pale, and his eye bags were dark. His back was covered in raised pink lines and thought Peter never scarred before, he knew these weren’t going away any time soon. His midsection was tightly wrapped in waterproof bandages so he was thankful he couldn’t see the wound beneath it, but that didn’t cover up the marks and bumps that covered the rest of him, each blemish a new scar to add to the growing collection. His left hand still looked mangled even though it was completely healed, his fingers covered in scarred scratches on discoloured skin. His throat was still bruised from when Steve had nearly crushed his windpipe, his healing factor taking it’s time with that one.

His mind was already searching for excuses on how he could possibly explain all the new marks, because people were sure to ask questions.

Once his clothes were on - Tony’s old MIT hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants - he trudged out of the room inch by inch, longing to sit down. He wasn’t surprised to see Tony leaning up against the wall right next to the door, trying and failing to look nonchalant. Peter couldn’t help but smirk at his efforts to give him space, when he could tell Tony was itching to scoop him up in a bridal carry and whisk him away back to bed.

Peter caught a glimpse of the Spider-Man themed bandage that was tightly wrapped around Tony's hand, mostly covered by his jacket sleeve and winced at the guilt that once again rose up, because that had been his fault, not matter how many times Mr Stark tried to convince him otherwise. He had the sudden urge to be sick, as if that would expel this horrid feeling, but sighed n relief when it passed after a few seconds and Tony didn't notice.

“All good?” Tony said, a little too eagerly to be casual.

“Yep, all good. See? Told you I could do it.” Peter said, giving Tony a high five as he walked past. He was proud of himself; he had done it. Baby steps.

Peter braced his hand against the wall for support as he attempted to turn the corner back to his room when Tony lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Actually, I was thinking – well, the _team_ was thinking, that you could do with a change of scenery, and maybe – if you’re up to it, that is – we could all watch a movie in the common room?” Tony clasped his hands together as he waited for a response.

Peters eyes lit up in excitement. “Seriously? The whole team?”

“Yes, the whole team!” Tony laughed, treasuring the look on Peter’s face.

“That would be awesome! Holy cow, just wait till I tell Ned – “

Peter cut himself off, suddenly looking glum.

Tony placed a comforting hand on the Kid’s shoulder. “You still haven’t talked to him?”

Peter looked at the floor as he shook his head. He had been planning to, even dialled his number a few times but chickened out at the last minute. As far as Ned and his school knew, Peter had been called away to Germany for intern-stuff and hadn’t been allowed access to his phone. 

Ned would assume it was a mission and ask for details, and he didn’t want to lie to his best friend. He could tell him the truth but that seemed even worse, it would just be another person that treated him like a fragile piece of glass. He just wanted one thing to stay the same. But at the same time, he really missed him. So, Peter was yet to call ned, or even text him, or even look at the hundred of messages he was sure were clogging up his phone from Ned.

“Ill meet you in the common room in five minutes.” Peter said, turning away from Tony who nodded in response.

He picked up his phone that lay discarded in an empty draw by his bed, and turned it on, sitting on his bed with his feet dangling off the sides. Straight away the notifications littered his screen, some old some new, so we went onto Ned’s contact, and started to read the essay his friend had bombarded him with.

 **Guy in the Chair, 21:06** Dude I got that new COD game, wanna come over tmrw after school???  
**Guy in the Chair, 23:39** DUDE!  
**Guy in the Chair, 23:39** Are you still patrolling? Karen says you aren’t.  
**Guy in the Chair, 09:15** Where are you? Mr Harrington is gonna kill you if you are late for his class again.  
**Guy in the Chair, 10:26** Peeeetterrrrrr wheeerreeee aaareeee youuuuuu  
**Guy in the Chair, 10:27** Seriously bro im getting worried. LIKE WHAT IF YOUR DEAD  
**Guy in the Chair, 10:27** I think MJ is even worried. She totally likes you  
**Guy in the Chair, 15:09** Peter where ae you. Answer my calls  
**Guy in the Chair, 16:24** Peter  
**Guy in the Chair, 16:24** Peter  
**Guy in the Chair, 16:24** Petwr  
**Guy in the Chair, 16:24** Peter  
**Guy in the Chair, 19:35** YOU’RE IN GERMANY? IS IT A MISSION? FOR YOU KNOW WHAT?  
**Guy in the Chair, 19:35** dude that’s SO awesome. Im so jealous.  
**Guy in the Chair, 19:35** you have the coolest life man. Are you fighting with the avengers?  
**Guy in the Chair, 13:01** Bro when does this mission finish. I miss you dude.

Peter sighed, guilt churning in his stomach for not messaging his friend back sooner. That last message was sent a week ago, and he hadn’t even bothered to open it. 

**NightMonkey, 20:15** Hey ned.

Why was Peter so nervous? This was Ned. Sure enough, his phone binged three times in a row only seconds later.

 **Guy in the Chair, 20:15** PETER OH MYOF AAAAHGHHHH  
**Guy in the Chair, 20:15** CNDNFJWHUJJQIQBHAD  
**Guy in the Chair, 20:15** WHERE HAVE YOU BEEEEN?????!!!

Peter couldn’t help but laugh. Ned hadn’t changed at all, and with that Peter realised he needed something constant, so would not be telling Ned the real reason he was gone, no way.

 **NightMonkey, 20:16** Sorry Ned they didn’t let us have our phones. Missions is over tho and ill be coming back from Germany soon. Call later?

Peter winced at the lies that were already building up

 **Guy in the Chair, 20:16** yooo I can’t wait to here about he mission. THIS IS SO COOL.  
**Guy in the Chair, 20;16** and yes deffo call later

He went through his other contacts till he found Michelle's, opening the unread message.

 **MJ, 12:48** hey loser where are you. Ned thinks your dead

He ignored the fuzzy feeling that filled his chest at the knowledge Michelle had been worried about him, even is she wouldn’t admit it, and sent her off a quick message similar to Ned’s.

Satisfied, Peter shut off his phone and slung it onto his bed, before slowly standing up and trudging over to the common room. He could already here the voices from down the hall and felt more at ease, Tony hadn’t been lying when he said the whole team was there.

As Peter rounded the corner, an arm cradling his mid-section protectively, he walked in on a scene that would make him laugh for days. Sam was yelling, his arms flying around in big gestures

“-you can’t _seriously_ think Rapunzel would win, Elsa can literally shoot ice out of her hands!”

“Rapunzel has magic hair that glows!” Bucky shot back instantly, taking a step towards Sam in exasperation. Natasha was sat quietly on the couch, her nose in a book but a smirk on her lips, giving away that she was obviously very invested in the argument. Steve sat next to her as he stared up at Bucky and Sam, his eyebrows pulled together as he tried to follow the conversation.

“Oh yeah, because glowing hair is going to be _so_ useful in a fight.” Same scoffed.

Bucky huffed, his fingers gripping the knife in his belt tightly. “It doesn’t _just_ glow – and have you seen her with a frying pan? I hardly think ice would win against fucking metal.”

“We all saw what happened to Anna, all it takes if for that ice to hit her heart – “

“Anna was weak – “

“Rapunzel is no stronger – “

Bruce timidly raised his hand as he spoke, “Uh, I heard that apparently Elsa and Rapunzel are sisters, so I don’t know why they would be fighting in the first place – “

“Shut up, man!” Sam yelled at the same time Bucky snapped, “That’s not what this is about!” Bruce immediately shrunk back into his seat, giving Natasha a quick glance and breaking out into a smile.

Peter had to slap a hand over his mouth to stop from bursting out with laughter, staying in the doorway as no one had noticed him yet. Tony, Pepper and May were in the kitchen to the side, talking to each other casually, making an enormous amount of popcorn and preparing a dozen mugs of hot chocolate.

Steve perked up, like he finally understood the argument. “I think Rapunzel would win if she teamed up with, uh, what’s his name? Rider?”

Bucky and Sam ignored him, continuing to yell, but Natasha dropped her book onto her lap, sitting up. “Are you saying she wouldn’t win just because she’s a female? She doesn’t need a _man_ to rescue her.”

Steve’s eyes went comically wide. “No, no that isn’t – that’s not what I meant!” He tried to backtrack, waving his hands in front of him.

Natasha smirked, she wasn’t mad and knew that wasn’t what the man meant, but she wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to get Captain America all flustered.

It was chaos, Sam and Bucky getting louder in their debate, their muscles tensed like they were prepared to fight each other in the training room over this topic, while Steve tried desperately to convince Natasha he was, in fact, a feminist but was just digging himself a deeper hole. Then suddenly, the popcorn was burning in the microwave and Tony was frantically waving a cloth around the air, coughing while he tried to save the popcorn and Pepper was holding the fire extinguisher, ready to fire as May laughed hysterically off to the side. Clint had dropped through from one of the events at some point, shooting a rubber arrow at Rhodes that hit the back of his head, only to duck when Rhodes spun round, throwing half a sandwich at him in retaliation.

Peter was rooted to the floor, momentarily forgetting the pain that ached everywhere. This, right here, felt safe. Though they would all deny it to their grave, they really were one big, messy family.

Once the smoke was cleared and the small fire was put out, Tony spotted Peter in the doorway, relaxing at seeing he looked fine. “Peter!” He shouted over the noise, jogging over to him.

At his name everyone shut up immediately, whipping around to face him. Peter suddenly felt very awkward and felt his face flush.

“Uh, hi.” Peter said with a small wave. This was probably the first time they were seeing him outside of his room, or even bed for that matter. 

“Peter! Finally,” Sam broke the silence, his voice still loud from his heated argument with Bucky. “Who would win in a fight, Elsa or Rapunzel?”

Everyone looked at him like his answer was the most important in the world. “Elsa, no question.”

Sam jumped in celebration, pumping his fist into the air, as Bucky squeaked a disbelieving _”What?_.

“But,” Peter continued, “Rapunzel is way more badass, and would last longer out in the wild.”

Sam was obviously about to interject, still riled up, when Tony stepped in between them, holding up a hand. “Okay, okay. What movie we watching, Underoos?”

“Tangled.” Bucky stated before Peter could even open his mouth, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “What? I need to prove to Sam that it’s a better movie than Frozen!” He defended.

“Shouldn’t I get to choose the movie?” Peter laughed.

Clint scoffed. “No, you don’t get special treatment just because you’re the youngest.”

Peter threw his hands up in the air. “I literally got, like, impaled two weeks ago!”

“That’s no excuse.” Bucky said. “We are watching Tangled. It’s already been decided.”

Peter laughed and plonked himself down on one of the sofas in front of the big screen. He didn’t really care what movie they watched, and he appreciated what they were trying to do: not treat him any differently.

May sat herself down to the left of Peter, snuggling into his side and handing him a hot cup of coco. Sam and Clint fought over the armchair, sitting on each other’s laps till Sam won and Clint reluctantly slumped into another seat. Bucky sat down to the right of Peter, throwing an arm round his shoulder, until Tony walked over, staring at Bucky with cold eyes.

“Up. I’m sitting with the kid. I already said dibs.” Tony ordered.

Bucky scoffed, making no room to move. “You can’t dibs a seat. Besides, I got here first.”

“I’ll hide all the special oil you use for your arm.”

“You wouldn’t”

“Oh, but I would.”

Bucky huffed a breath but smiled to himself, throwing a cushion at Tony’s head as he sprung up off the couch, moving to sit with Steve and Natasha instead. Tony slumped next to Peter, sticking his tongue out at Bucky who glared at him. There was no tension between the two since they got back from the kidnapping, and because of that the whole team came even closer, no one even mentioning the events at Germany.

The watching of the movie was equally as chaotic as when Peter had first entered the room. They got barely twenty minutes in before the movie was paused and Bucky was in front of the TV, gesturing wildly to prove his point as Sam shook his head adamantly. The popcorn had already been strewn across the floor, along with two mugs of hot coco being spilled.

Peter guessed that this was the kind of thing most people would get angry at when watching a movie, the constant interruptions, arguments, and spillages made the whole event a complete shambles. But to Peter he wouldn’t want to change a thing, this was who they were, and he loved it.

As the evening got quieter and people started to calm down, Peter felt his eyelids drooping shut. He debated fighting it to finish the movie, but then his abdomen ached fiercely, and he fell deeper into the couch, giving in and relaxing into May and Tony who were still beside him.

Tony noticed Peter had drifted off against his side, and threw a hand to his mouth, shushing Sam who was seconds away from yelling at Bucky for the tenth time.

Maybe, if they played their cards right, Peter wouldn’t be as scarred as they thought he would be.

 _Yep_ , Tony thought, _Peter’s going to be just fine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)) Thoughts??
> 
> I can't believe this fic has nearly 800 kudos, that's insane! I'm loving writing this so much that I think the chapter count is about to go up, I have so many ideas and I don't want it to end!
> 
> Also... WANDAVISION IS BLOWING MY MIND! (don't spoil in comments for people who may not have seen it yet though.)


	11. Chapter 11

“Come on, guys, Please! I’m ready, I swear.”

Tony huffed a breath, looking to May for an answer, who looked equally as conflicted.

“It’s just school! What do you think is going to happen? And you said it yourself, I’ve been doing really good!” Peter said again, slightly exasperated.

Tony didn’t want Peter going back so soon, he was still worried the kid was just putting on a front. His recovery seemed to be going _too_ smoothly, other than a few nightmares and accidental flinches, he was doing amazingly, barely even mentioning the kidnapping. “But Pete, I mean you aren’t even fully healed. What if – “

“I’ve been to school with worse after a bad night of patrol, and besides, if something happens, I can just call you.” He wasn’t lying – Peter once went to school with a barely healed stab wound and ended up fainting in the bathrooms, but still managed to keep that a secret. Other than a few bruises around his neck, and the scars across his back, Peter looked fine, the colour having returned to his cheeks and his muscles filling out again a few days ago.

The only thing was his abdomen, still wrapped in thick bandages. Bruce had said the surgery was very invasive, and his healing factor had been the slowest it had ever been when he was bought in, which was why it was taking so long. Tony had ordered him to have a check-up every single day with Bruce and for once, he had done as he was told, eager to get the all clear to go back into the world again.

“We know honey, but we just don’t want to rush into anything.” May reasoned, taking Peter's hand in his.

“I’ve been home for, like, two weeks now! I’m missing so much work, May. Please.”

Again, Tony and May made eye contact, seeming to come to a silent agreement.

Tony turned back to peter. “Fine – “

Peter tensed with excitement, already moving to envelope Tony in a hug, when Tony stopped him.

“ _But,_ you feel sick? You call me. You knock your side? You call me. Anything, anything whatsoever happens – you call me.”

Peter nodded vigorously. “Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!

***

As Peter rifled through his schoolbag, he tried to swallow the nerves that were making his stomach fuzzy. He wasn’t sure why he was so highly strung, it was just school, and he had only missed roughly a month. 

Truthfully, when convincing May and Tony he was ready for school, he had lied. It should have worried him how easily lying was now, how natural it felt. Because he wasn’t sleeping - nightmares haunted him every night, leaving him waking up with a silent scream, sweaty and disorientated.

When Mr Stark would ask him, _“How’d you sleep, Kid?”_ , he’d lie, telling him he slept fine, and he needed to stop worrying. He couldn’t tell him, Tony would assume he wasn’t strong enough to go out again, and then everyone would find out he was still hung up on events that happened weeks ago.

He lied when he said to May he didn’t think about the kidnapping much, when really he couldn’t even look down without seeing the pipe jutting out of his stomach, or couldn’t supress the flinch that shuddered through him when he looked at Steve, or the memory of drowning that accompanied just stepped into the shower. How could he? Peter had already worried her so much, made her feel so much pain because of him. He had to be okay, for her.

When he and Ned talked over the phone, Ned asking a thousand enthusiastic questions about this ‘super awesome mission’ he had been on with the Avengers, he lied, making up stories about fake interactions and narrating it like an action movie. Ned never questioned him, believed wholeheartedly that his best friend wouldn’t lie to him. He was a crappy friend.

He even lied during his daily check-ups with Bruce when the man asked him, “ _How’s the pain, on a scale of one to ten?”_ , telling him that he could barely feel it anymore, it was maybe a two at the most, even though the ache that burned through his middle never really left, and he felt washed out after one hour of exercise. 

How could he explain it to them? How could he tell him that every time he closed his eyes, he saw Tony’s head exploding into a mess of blood and gore? How could he tell him he could still feel his fists pummelling into the guards that had restrained them, because no matter how bad those men were, how could he live with himself after he killed two men? How could he tell them that sometimes, deep into the night, when no one could see him, or hear him, or help him, he thought maybe it would have been better Adams had held his head under that water a little longer? Just a little longer – enough to make everything stop.

He couldn’t tell then.

So, all in all, Peter was a dirty, fucking liar.

He just hated the looks anyone gave him when he showed any emotion other than pure happiness, hated the follow up questions that were said in low voices, like he was some animal in a cage that needed to be put down. He wasn’t broken. He didn’t need to be _fixed_.

Peter was doing just fine on his own. He was going to prove to them that he didn’t need to see a therapist, because he wasn’t traumatised or mentally scarred, or some shit along those lines. He was _fine_. Absolutely fine.

He chucked on Tony’s old MIT hoodie he had lent him, not really caring if anyone questioned it. It covered the green-blue bruises that still stained his neck, and the scent of Tony still lingered on it, mechanical oil mixed with aftershave and expensive coffee, making Peter feel safe.

He jogged down the hall, backpack in hand, towards the communal Kitchen where he could hear the rest of the Avengers, and smell the hearty breakfast they were frying up, his mouth already watering. He didn’t want the team to make a big deal of his first day, but of course, they had ignored him and continued to all wake up early, and eat breakfast together, which was not a regular occurrence. 

It was still strange to him, seeing how domestic the team acted.

Sure enough, when he rounded the corner, majority of them were there, milling about or stuffing food into their mouths. Rhodes was missing, probably at his physical therapy, and Peter didn’t spot May, assuming she had picked up an early shift at the hospital. Now that Peter was nearly healed they didn't need to stay at the tower, but everyone had agreed with the possibility of Adams and Lilian still out there, it would be best if they still a little while longer.

Pepper placed a plate in front of him as soon as he was seated, a mountain of eggs, toast, beans, and bacon. Bucky sat next to him with a similar plate and gave his shoulder a playful nudge in greeting, while Tony sat on his other side with a cup of coffee.

“So, back to school. Excited?” Bucky said, trying to be casual.

Peter shrugged as he shovelled a fork-full of eggs into his mouth. “Yeah, I guess. It’ll be cool to see Ned.” He had slept a total of three hours last night, and already wanted to conk out at the table, so he wasn’t particularly excited for school, but he still wanted to prove that he was better, and if school was the answer, then so be it.

Steve joined the table opposite him, filling up a glass of orange juice. “You should bring Ned over; I’d like to meet him.”

“Seriously?” Peter said, his eyes widening in excitement. “He would love that so much. He idolizes you.” It was the moments like these that made Peter hope he could get better, that he would.

Tony barked a laugh from beside him. “I don’t think anyone can idolize him as much as you did.”

“What – I didn’t, well, I guess.” Peter spluttered, his cheeks going a tinge darker.

Sam laughed at that from the other end of the table. “ _Mr, uh, Captain America, Sir._ ” He squeaked, raising his voice in pitch to imitate Peter.

“Dude, I do not sound like that!” Peter defended but smiled anyway. “And I only said that, like – “

His words were cut off when his hand knocked the glass of orange juice in front of him, only for Steve’s hand to shoot out and grab it, stopping the contents from spilling out. But that isn’t what made Peter’s words die in his throat, it was the barely contained flinch and gasp that burst from him. Because for a moment, Peter thought he was back in that cell, and Steve’s hand was reaching forward to strike him against the side of his head, or to grip his throat till it crushed his windpipe, pushing him up against the bloodstained walls. 

His body had acted on instinct, but the memory was gone as quick as it came, and Steve was looking at him like he had just murdered his dog, the guilt etched onto his face devastating, and every other face in that room had turned to him, silently looking at him with concern. Nobody said anything, didn’t dare to move, and the silence was suffocating.

His cheeks had gone a rosy red and he was breathing too quickly, pushing his chair back and grabbing his backpack before anyone could say anything. He just screwed it up, all that lying and pretending going down the drain because he couldn’t control his body.

“Peter – wait.” Tony called out as he barrelled out the door, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jumper. He ignored him, speed-walking to the elevator. 

His jabbed at the button for the ground floor once he was inside, nearly smashing it out of its socket in his desperation to get away.

“FRIDAY, hold the doors!” He heard Tony yell, and blew out a frustrated breath to see the man jog into the elevator after him.

“Look, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to overreact but it’s really not a big deal so can we just not talk about it – “

“Woah, woah, woah.” Tony said as the doors slid shut. “You don’t need to say sorry, it’s fine.”

Peter looked up at that. “It is? You aren’t going to make me stay home?”

“No, Pete. That kind of thing is bound to happen every now and then. If you say you’re ready for school, I trust you.” Tony placed two hands on both of Peter’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes.

That same guilt resurfaced in Peter. He needed to stop messing up. “Thanks, Mr Stark.”

“No problem, Kiddo. Now, off you pop, before your late and I end up having to call the school - _again_.”

Peter nodded and jogged out the elevator, slipping into the black Audi Happy had been grumpily waiting in. The drive went surprisingly quickly, Peter’s head resting against the window as he watched the blur of cars and trees go by. Happy sent him odd looks every now and then, strangely missing the constant stream of chatter that was usually coming from the boy.

Peter made a mental note to apologise to Steve later, he knew he would be kicking himself for what happened, when really it was Peter’s own stupid fault for being dramatic. At least school would be a distraction from everything else swirling round his head.

He thanked Happy and sped-walked into school, slipping past people and beelining for his locker. Through the sea of bodies, he spotted Ned and Michelle leaning on the wall of blue lockers, next to his one, and he instantly relaxed, a genuine smile lighting up his features. Subconsciously, he ruffled his hoodie, making sure it covered his bruises, and tried to shake the stiffness out of his body. His abdomen still ached, and he could feel the bandages rubbing against his skin, but it was mostly unnoticeable now.

Once Ned caught his eye, he couldn’t help but laugh at the way he flustered excitedly, slapping Michelle across the shoulder to get her attention, and bouncing on the balls of his feet. It was like he had been gone for years when it was only about a month.

“Peter!” Ned yelled, barely containing his joy as he caught Peter in a crushing hug and patted his back. He held back a yelp as it pulled at the nearly healed lashes on his back, and made his stab wound throb, but concealed it with a chuckle.

“Hey, man. What’s up?” Peter smiled, and then nodded at Michelle awkwardly, not sure how to proceed.

“Oh my days, you’ve missed so much, dude, like it’s literally been so long and we all missed you so much, but bro you won’t believe what Flash has been saying and - “

Peter laughed as Ned rambled on and patted a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Yes, this was Ned. He was so relieved to have something that hadn’t changed, that wasn’t treating him differently. It was a breath of fresh air from the suffocating looks and deep conversations he couldn’t avoid at home.

“Sup’ Loser,” Michelle said, her face flat. “How was the internship thing?”

Peter had nearly forgot that the internship was his cover story, and blanched, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could sort them out. “Oh, right. The, uh, internship, yeah – yeah it was alright, I mean – “

“I know you’re Spider-Man.” She stated, her dead pan expression not faltering.

Peter felt his stomach drop, trying – and failing – to be nonchalant. “What? I’m not, I’m not – I don’t know what you’re – “

“Ned told me.” She smirked.

Peter’s head snapped to Ned, his eyes wide. “ _What?_ Ned!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Ned spluttered, scratching the back of his neck. “She was grilling me on where you were and it just, it just slipped out!”

Peter huffed a breath, knowing there was no point in being angry, and judging by the look on Ned’s face, he really hadn’t meant to. “Okay, it’s fine – but, Michelle, you can _not_ tell anyone. Please.”

Michelle shrugged. “I haven’t got anyone to tell.”

Peter nodded, feeling the tension in his body deflate. The bell rang and the trio strolled over to their first class, Ned talking a mile a minute, as Peter gave some half-assed lies about the ‘exciting mission’ he had been on, ignoring the questioning looks Michelle was shooting at him. That familiar pang of guilt resurfaced for a moment, but he pushed it down. They wouldn’t find out he was lying, so really there was no harm done. Right?

After being greeted by Mr Harrington, he slid into his seat next to Ned as they rambled about Legos, thankful that they were finally off the topic of his time away. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Flash walk in, holding his phone up as he talked to a live stream. Peter couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that escaped him, it was only a matter of time before Flash opened his fat mou – 

“Hey Penis!” He yelled, slamming his hands down on Peter’s desk, Peter flinching automatically but managing to style it off by leaning back. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Uh, Germany. For the, uh, internship.” Peter muttered in reply, staring at his hands.

Flash barked a condescending laugh. “We all know that’s not true, dumbass. Seriously, where ya’ been? Let me guess – did someone die? _Again?_ ”

Peter clenched his jaw but said nothing. Images of a bullet ripping through Tony’s head flashed before him, the blood that splattered the wall, his body unresponsive and cold…

Michelle scowled at Flash from her seat. “Tell me it’s small without actually telling me it’s small.” She dead panned, her eyes flicking down to his crotch. 

Flash flustered, his cheeks reddening as he mumbled a response and plonked himself into a chair at the front row. Ned burst out laughing, high-fiving Michelle, as Peter sent her a small smile.

He had Physics first, one of his easier lessons, and struggled to follow what Mr Harrington was saying after the first ten minutes, his lack of sleep catching up on him. He placed his head in his hands and closed his eyes, just for a moment, and let the sound of the multiple heartbeats around him drown at his teachers voice. Just as he was drifting off, thoughts of Lilian and Adams – who they still hadn’t caught – popped into his head, and he jolted in his chair. His hand flew to his midsection as the movement aggravated the wound and he held back a yelp, looking up to see no one had noticed, other than Michelle, who was staring at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“- and for this project, I want you all to pair up. I expect you to have prepared a PowerPoint that you will need to share with the class next week.” Mr Harrington said, tying up the end of the class.

Peter and Ned fist bumped under their desks, silent conformation that they would pair up for the project.

His next two classes passed in a blur, him not understanding a word in his Spanish class and even getting a calculation wrong in maths, which wasn’t like him. Ned wasn’t with him during those classes, Peter slightly relieved he could have a break from lying for a few hours. He tried to smile at Michelle when she looked at him with a studying expression he couldn’t decipher, but spent most of the time resting his head against textbooks and dozing off.

When the bell rang for lunch, Peter slid out his seat, his muscles feeling achy and stiff, and ventured towards the food hall, hoping to catch up with Ned before last period. As he weaved in and out of the bustling school children, a hand forcefully pulled him to the side. He was too tired to defend himself, letting his body be pulled into a storage cupboard with a surprised yelp.

Peter spun his head round to see Michelle, shutting the door to the small room and switching on the small bulb that produced a dim glow. She turned round to face him, her gaze stern and frustrated as she looked at him.

“MJ, what the hell are you – “

“You’re injured.” It wasn’t a question. It was an observation, a fact.

Peter blanched, trying to chuckle to style it off but the sound too squeaky and forced to be natural. “Why would I be – of course I’m not, I mean, why would you – “

“It’s obvious.” She stated, before her eyes darted across his body, making him feel naked. With no warning, she reached forward and pinched his arm, then did the same to his shoulder, then to his thigh.

Peter squirmed and tried to move away but couldn’t back up far due to the shelves lining the walls. “Hey, stop that – what are you - _agh_ ”

Peter couldn’t help but yelp and bat her hands away when her finger jabbed into his midsection, making the bandaged area blossom with pain.

Her eyes hardened at his recoil, and once again reached forward with purpose, lifting up his hoodie and T-shirt before he could protest. She saw the white bandages tied tightly round his abdomen before he could react, the material dotted with specks of red.

“ _Hey!_ ” Peter cried, pushing his hoodie down roughly in the hope she wouldn’t see, but by the way her eyes widened he could tell it was too late. “Look – it’s nothing, I swear.” He tried to backtrack.

Michelle’s head shot up to look at him. “What happened?” Her voice was strained and clip, like she was on the verge at screaming at him if he wasn’t straight with her.

Peter opened his mouth, but found nothing came out. He couldn’t tell her the real reason. “Patrol.” He spluttered, ignoring the pull in his stomach that told him the lies were piling up. “Just a bad patrol last night. Nothing that hasn’t happened before.”

For a moment she said nothing, and Peter held his breath, worried she could see through his lies, but finally she let up, sighing out a breath. “I’m choosing to believe you, Parker, but I swear to god – if you are lying to me – “

“I’m not. I’m fine.” He gave her a tight lip smile, desperate to get out of this cramped space.

“If you say so.” She shrugged, but Peter had a hunch this wasn’t the end of it. “We should get going, before people start assuming we’re hooking up, or something shady.”

Peter’s eyes went wide, and he felt the rush of heat up his neck as he stuttered, “Totally, yeah, of course, you’re right. Let’s go.” Images of him and Michelle _actually_ hooking up flashed through his head, and he felt giddy at the thought, but shook them away and reprimanded himself for being a creep. 

Peter trailed out of the storage room after her and they ventured off to the canteen, side by side, talking about Star Wars and finally off the topic of his recent escapades. Ned waved the pair over to where he was seated at an empty table. Michelle didn’t say anything to Ned about what she saw, and Peter was immensely grateful, Ned would be sure to bombard him with questions, and he definitely didn’t need that right now.

Overall, his day wasn’t amazing, but it could have been worse. Maybe he could do this. Forget about the kidnapping, and the whole ‘nearly dying thing’. Maybe he could get be what everyone wanted him to be, maybe, for once in his fucking life, he could be completely and utterly okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly think posting these chapters is my favourite part of the week...
> 
> School is starting back up but I'm hoping my updates won't slow down as I've already got the next few written out.
> 
> (Also, you may have noticed the chapter count has gone up :))
> 
> Please leave a comment! - they make my day

**Author's Note:**

> What did you guys think??
> 
> Comments and kudos make my day! :))


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